When In Torchwood
by Assan-Mahariel
Summary: Mahariel, Zevran, Fenris, and Hawke find themselves trapped in a world not their own after a clashing of two spells leaves them stranded with no idea of how to get home. Only problem is, this world is modern. And a different Hero of Ferelden and his Zevran are already there. (Based of Bloodsong 13T's series. M for mature themes and violence, but warning you now there is no smut)
1. Chapter 1

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's series (seriously, go read Bloodsong's stuff))

-Assan-

Surrounded by Crows is not how I planned on spending my day.

I figured maybe Zevran and I could spend the day at a nearby lake, clothes not included. Of course, we probably wouldn't have managed that either, what with the 'insurance' Zevran had gotten us, even if the Crows hadn't ruined our morning by announcing their presence by shooting my dog.

"Look how he glows, Assan," I mocked under my breath, "he does this thing with his fist, mi amor. We need these two, Assan. You should see them at work, Assan. By the Creators, Zev, the elf bloody GLOWS!"

I shoved a dagger so far into the chest of an assassin with my next shove that my fist followed the blade into the man's chest.

"Well, look at that, vhenan!" I glanced over at Zevran, who looked up with a huge grin and a wave as he heard me yell, "I do the fist thing too!"

My mabari, Barkspawn, let out a happy bark, but was quickly lunging back into the fray near the mage. He was quite taken with the mage that Zevran had brought along. Be it because the human may have saved his life or because she, too, had a mabari, was yet to be seen.

I pulled my hand (and the dagger) out of the man's chest, my vehnan's laugh echoing in my ears. I spotted our 'insurance' at work from the corner of my eye, the glowing elf swinging a sword bigger than he was with more ferocity than I had ever seen in anybody. One went after the female human that traveled with him (or did he travel with her? They had only just arrived before the Crows attacked). The mage let loose a mind blast attack that sent the Crow that had gone after her back towards the elf, and the glowing warrior relieved the assassin of his head.

The distraction cost me; a Crow leapt from the shadows, daggers digging into my back. I had whirled out of way enough to avoid a death blow, and my armor protected me enough, but I felt the daggers bite through. A fireball soared over my head and hit the man in the face before I felt the familiar feel of healing magic moving through me as soon as I had pulled the daggers out.

I shot the mage a nod of gratitude, pausing long enough to see her nod back, a smirk on her pretty little face before she lifted her arms and made fire rain from the sky with a firestorm attack. Her face twisted in concentration, and the balls of fire raining from the sky hit only the enemies attacking us.

I grinned and turned around on my heel, ripping a bloody mouth in the neck of a Crow who had made the mistake of coming into reach behind me.

The glowy elf stuck near his mage like glue, and so I lunged onto the back of a rather large human man who was going after Zev, digging my daggers into the man's back, spitting angrily as I stabbed at the parts not protected by armor.

"Damn knife-ear savage!" the man spat, twisting and slamming his back into the hard side of an unfortunately placed boulder. I felt the wind get knocked out of me but recaught it quickly without even falling off.

"You damn shems shouldn't have shot my dog!" I spat back; my arms pinned, I chomped my teeth down onto the back of his neck, distracting him long enough for Zevran to land the killing blow on the Qunari sized man.

Zevran waited long enough for me to pull myself to my feet before he leapt back into the fray. I paused to catch my breath, scanning the battlefield.

We were outnumbered.

I've faced worse odds.

We'd beaten down the numbers in a matter of minutes, each one of us panting and blood-covered by the end, but the mage proved quite capable in her healing magic, if not snappy after I had denied the magic until she'd healed Zev and her friend. Even so, she soon came back over.

"Now can I heal you or are you going to point me off towards the nearest bush for a cut leaf?"

I glanced up at the mage before giving the slightest of nods. She moved to my back, finishing up on the patch job she had done during battle on the work the backstab attack had done.

"Zevran said you two were capable," I nodded, a lot more happy about the insurance he had brought than when he had first presented the idea to me, "I am pleased to see his words barely hold a torch to the abilities you have shown."

The mage smirked and waved the compliment away with a shrug, "well, if we're finding ourselves playing compliment the teammate, then I've gotta say I'm quite impressed with how getting stabbed in the back only seemed to piss you off."

"Ha!" I beamed at the mage, "Vhenan, I think you've outdone yourself on the allies you have found! Ma serannas, human. I am Assan Mahariel, pleased to make the acquaintance of a mage as capable and as beautiful as yourself."

The glowy elf (well, not as glowy now that the battle was over, the brands in his skin having softened from the bright blue glow to simple light-colored scars) gave me a warning look, cleaning off his bloody blade with well practiced ease.

"Mahariel?" the human's eyes lit up, the light catching on the streak of red across the woman's nose, "as in.. Hero of Ferelden Mahariel?"

"The one and only," I grinned, "and you must be the Champion of Kirkwall, Marian Hawke, that my vhenan has told me so much about. He was quite impressed after meeting you. Spoke of you for days. Though... I do not envy you having had to duel the Arishok."

She laughed, a pretty noise I wouldn't be displeased to hear again, "yes, well, I don't envy you having fought the archdemon! Plus you're one of the few people Carver actually seems to have good things to say about! And that, I assure you, might even be a bigger achievement than killing the archdemon!"

"Glad to see you two are instant buddies," the glowing warrior growled, his voice deep -and man, I wouldn't be displeased to hear that voice again either!- "but have you both forgotten about why we've teamed up in the first place? Or that more could attack at any moment?"

"Crows?" I asked at the same time the woman sighed and said "Templars?"

Then we turned, giving each other a confused look as we echoed our words back at each other.

"Mi amor, meet the the ones we're protecting from the Kirkwall fallout," Zevran chirped with a grin, though I could tell from the too relaxed state he held that he was nervous, "ones we're protecting from the Kirkwall fallout, meet the ones you're protecting from the Crows."

"Oh," I suddenly felt a lot less happy, "of course. Yes. The Kirkwall incident is my fault, and I promise we'll do whatever we can to help."

"Your fault?"

"I recruited both Anders and Justice," I said, though not looking away as the mage met my gaze, "but this is not the time for this. The Crows know where we are. We need to leave. Talk will come later."

"Anders was an abomination," the glowing elf growled.

"Fenris," Hawke frowned at the elf, but he didn't take back his statement.

I heard the telltale scuff of a foot and turned, throwing a throwing knife with deadly accuracy. After seven years watching your back for assassins, you get quite good at taking care of them, and the shadows left the Crow as he dropped to the ground, his last breath a gurgle as he drowned in blood. I pulled the dagger from his neck as I passed, wiping it off on my Warden-Commander armor and putting it back in its holster, "there's more. We need to go. Zev, grab the move bag."

"Go?" the mage hesitated, "right now? The sun's not even up. And this place is in the middle of a forest! What about bears? Or-" she shuddered, a dark look crossing her face, "-or spiders. Giant, giant spiders, with their little click click click on their too many feet- ugh!"

"Bears: that's actually a good idea," I said, opening the door and peering into the darkness. The shadows didn't move, and I opened the door more, "if we're lucky, there's plenty of spiders and bears nearby. Spider and Da'len shouldn't be too far away. Maybe even a wolf pack is in the area if we're lucky."

"Oh, good, go- wait, what?"

"He talks to the animals," Zevran explained, "I don't know what he tells them, but I remember there was a particularly angry brown bear he summoned once. I don't think I'll ever forget the sight of that thing biting the archdemon in the ass... you know, before the thing smacked the bear off the tower."

"You speak spider?" Hawke looked at me, clearly horrified.

"What!? No!" I scowled, "Zevran, quite telling people I talk to spiders!"

"People think nothing of it when a Dalish is doing it."

"Fen'Harel em halam*," I rolled my eyes, "Zev, Dalish don't talk to animals."

"But you do frolic," Hawke said.

"We don't- okay, we do frolic," I said, casting a glare around the room, "and if I hear one word about it, I'll kick somebody's ass. And I DON'T talk to spiders!"

"He talks to wolves, too. And don't forget the bears."

"Zev!"

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed, holding his hands up in submission, not looking sorry at all.

"I don't talk to them, I just-" I growled, not much unlike Barkspawn does when angry, "we don't have time to argue!"

"He doesn't even sleep in the cabin. I'll wake up in the middle of the night and he'll be outside with his mabari, eating fireflies."

"I collect them!"

"I've seen you eat them!"

"Irrelevant!" I waved my hand before tensing and grabbing my daggers, "I sense darkspawn!"

Hawke and Fenris both stiffened considerably, but Zevran crossed his arms, not looking impressed.

"Don't listen to him unless he says his darkspawn senses are tingling," Zev warned them, "he always miraculously senses darkspawn whenever he's fed up with talking."

Fenris rolled his eyes and shoved past me with a shake of his head, "great, a second Hawke in the world."

"You must be overjoyed," Hawke grinned, hurrying forward to catch up as we left the cabin, "you'll have to teach me how to do that. He knew you were changing the topic and he still let you get away with it."

"He's just angry that I decided to travel along with him," I grinned at the mage, "he didn't want me getting mixed up with the Crows, but if I was cooped up in that damn keep for one more day, I swear I was going to fake my Calling just to get away from it. But here? Surrounded by the forest, right where I belong? Sometimes I can close my eyes and pretend I never left."

My grin fell.

"Had I known Anders would feel trapped at Vigil's Keep without me there, as trapped as I did, maybe even more, I would have never left."

Hawke patted me on the shoulder, and I felt moved by her attempt.

"He talked about you a lot, you know," she said, a sad smile on her face, "I think-"

The night lit up in blue as Fenris' tattoos lit up. Hawke and I both went from relaxed and harmless to the weapons the world had fastened us both into. Fenris and Zevran were forced back to back, but they were falling into each other's step rather quickly; I didn't get the chance to watch for Hawke and I were forced to do the same, separated from the two elves by a line of mercenaries. I caught a glimpse of a mage on the outskirts, all his concentration focused on a spell, eyes glancing over a book as he pulled his spell together; that didn't look good.

I moved to step towards the man, but an arrow made its way into my shoulder. I hissed the pain out through my teeth, turning and catching the swing of a warrior's blade on my long sword. The impact jarred my arm, but years of practice left me more than capable to shake it off and return the favor. He didn't shake off a sword through the face all that well.

Fighting with one arm did not make me any less deadlier. Clutching my dominant arm against my body and shoving the pain to the back of my mind, I showed them that I could tear them down just as easily with my off-hand.

I caught myself a moment of time and let loose a booming call that echoed off the trees. A roar answered and a moment later, a huge brown bear erupted from the undergrowth, taking down several mercenaries with a single swipe.

"You weren't kidding -duck!- about the bears," I ducked and Hawke slammed the weaponized end of her staff into the head of a mercenary who had just tried to slam his mace into mine.

"I never joke about bears," I said, returning the favor and taking out the Crow who had almost caught the mage on the end of a dagger, "usually I call up Spidey, but I thought Da'len would do better for a fight like this."

"Da'len? Spidey? You mentioned those names earlier."

"Spidey's an old friend," I shrugged before running a mercenary through with my sword, glad for having enough breath to hold a conversation due to the mage's skill at setting them on fire; it wasuch easier to cut people down when they were too busy running around on fire and screaming, "a poisonous spider that I met during the Blight. I feed him and he follows me around."

"And... Da'len?"

"Known him not as long, considering my last bear got thrown off a tower," I took another arrow, gritting my teeth with a grunt as I felt it bounce off the back of my armor. That was most definetly going to leave a bruise, but at least it hadn't broken through, "the bear."

"Isn't Da'len the word the Dalish use for their kids?"

I merely grinned, "he.. reminds me of a little elf I once knew. Hmm, is that darkspawn I'm sensing?"

"Okay, okay, you don't want to talk about it," she waved her hand, a row of sharp ice spikes shooting up from the ground and impaling a number of Crows and mercenaries, "I get it. You're like the elf form of a Qunari, except with a sense of humor and expressions. Wanna answer a question, my friend? No? Oh, thank you for the many straws you've thrown me!"

"You catch on quick."

"What can I say? I'm a fast learner," she grinned, but the grin fell quickly when an attempt at a fireball only resulted in a spluttering of sparks, "ah, hell."

"No lyrium?" I frowned, leaping to her side and picking off the ones she didn't take out with her staff, "no offense, mage, but I'm working with one arm over here! I was hoping to get an arm back!"

"You don't have lyrium either!"

"I am not a mage!"

A shrill yelp pierced the air and I whipped around, eyes widening as Barkspawn went down. From here, I couldn't even tell if my beloved hound was alive or dead. I owed Cousland more than that.

"Barkspawn!" I sprang forward, but a Crow lunged in response to noticing my distracted state, aiming for my throat, and I moved to dodge. I heard more than felt the next arrow hit me, this one piercing my armor, and I stumbled, my foot hitting something slippery and deciding it no longer wished to stand beneath me.

I slipped up. Literally. My feet hit a puddle of blood and I went down hard.

* * *

-Marian-

I lunged forward, using my staff to block the blow that would have killed the Dalish. Time had seemed to slow when the arrow had pierced the small elf's chest, but the Crows seemed to have taken notice as more and more struck out at us, with Fenris, Zevran and my mabari cut off and unable to help; I heard a cry of despair from across the field as Zevran took notice that Assan had fallen, and the look on his face left me begging the Maker that the Hero of Ferelden hadn't just fallen to the damned Crows.

Da'len, the damned beast, turned and retreated the moment he saw Assan go down. Never trust bears.

There was a flash of bright light, and I halted as it blinded me. The Crows and their hired hands retreated from the field, but it didn't leave me feeling relieved as I caught my breath. Zevran didn't even pause, racing to Assan's side as fast as his feet could take him; Fenris spat out a curse and raced over to my side, looking me over before, satisfied that I wasn't seriously hurt, shoved a lyrium potion into my hand.

I moved to help Assan, but Fenris grabbed my hand and jerked his head towards the mage across the field. He didn't look like he was cooking up a nice spell. The trees nearest to him shook like a tornado was blowing past, dirt and debris whipping around the mage in trails of bright light that hurt to look at.

My eyes darted to the mage, but caught on the lump of fur laying still on the ground not too far away. My eyes darted back and forth between the two before I darted for the Hero's mabari.

"Marian!" Fenris screamed, the yell followed by a growled out "damned Ferelden dog-lovers" as he chased after me.

"Help me move him!"

"That damned mage is-"

"Fenris!"

He shut up and helped. The mabari still lived, and he whined when Fenris scooped him up, but the moment we reached Assan and Zevran again, his head dropped with a weary sigh. I didn't have time to see if the dog was alive or not as I ripped off the lid of the potion and downed the lyrium, praying I hadn't just lost what time I may have had.

My mana surged and, as the rival mage unleashed his spell, I dropped to my knees and raised my hands, throwing everything I had into it with no time for specifics.

I wanted us to be safe; he wanted us to die. It was as simple as that. We wanted to stay; he wanted us gone.

Our magic clashed, and the very world itself seemed to scream as the skies ripped around us.

* * *

*Dread wolf take me


	2. Chapter 2

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age, or Bloodsong 13T's work.)

-Assan-

 _"Where are you, you little whores!?" the shout was enhanced by something being smashed, "when I get my hands on you two little rats, you'll wish you were dead!"_

 _I bit my lip, trembling as I clutched the dagger I had snatched. The shout came again and Graves Cousland's hand tightened over my mouth, muffling me as the older boy held me tightly, eyes watching the door of the cupboard that hid us as if it might fly open at any moment; probably because it could. Beside us, Graves' mabari pup, Barkspawn, stayed silent, as if he knew what would happen to us if he barked or growled. Graves says mabari are smart, so maybe the hound did understand._

 _"I want the knife-ear lover and his knife-ear found now! I can't have a ransom without that boy. And if you don't get that Dalish savage back in-"_

 _The door was slammed open, and the older boy, Graves, gasped and scrambled back. I growled a growl worthy of the Dread wolf himself and lunged forward with my dagger, sick of being the one to back down. A month's worth of rage and pain boiled over, and I plunged the dagger into the noble; I didn't stop stabbing, even as his body stilled, even as the guards lunged into the room. Cousland took the opportunity and pulled free the noble's sword, lunging at the guards with no concern for his life. Neither of us cared if we lived or died. Not anymore._

 _They wanted a savage? I would give them one._

 _I glanced up; Graves was attacking the guards as ferociously as a she-bear protecting a cub. He would have made a good Dalish warrior, if he wasn't a shem. A guard caught him, struggling to hold the young teen down, and Graves rewarded him by biting down on the guard's arm and tearing into it like a rabid wolf. Below me, the cause of all our pain was growing cold, even as I kept stabbing at him with my dagger while Graves cut down any guard that got too close, the guard's blood still on his face._

 _No, **I** wouldn't give them **a** savage._

 ** _We_** _would give them **two**._

* * *

"Ugh."

I sat up, wincing when I realized the arrows were still there. My head was pounding so badly I couldn't even remember what I had been dreaming about; it had felt like a memory, but all I had left of which one it may have been was a lingering feeling of dread and terror. I had a lot of memories full of dread and terror, so I didn't try to single out the memory.

A low whine came from behind me and I turned, my mood instantly brightening as Barkspawn shoved his huge head in my face, tail wagging as he licked at my face. I let loose a laugh of relief and wrapped my arms tightly around his large neck, clinging to the huge mabari as he licked at my face.

With Barkspawn's help, I managed to sit up to look around. We were in some sort of dark alley, the world outside the gap between the buildings alight with more lights than I had ever seen. A lone light burned at the end of the alley, where it hit a path that large monsters marched across. They seemed to be running away from something, but others seemed to be running in the direction the others were running away from. I shivered and backed up further into the depths of the alley.

Whatever magic had dragged me awake must have done the opposite for my companions: the three of them and Hawke's mabari were unconscious on the ground. With Barkspawn's help, I moved them to lean against the wall at the end of the small alley, away from the monsters that roared on by, fortunately having not noticed us. The back of the alley was dark, and the shadows hid us well.

My ears caught sound of an odd call of a sort I had never heard before. Barkspawn whined, sniffing the air, and I did too; all I got was a noseful of pollution and I wheezed.

Us Dalish had better senses than city elves, considering we've had years of Creators' aided evolving to adapt to our lifestyles while the city elves were surrounded by humans with no need for the skills us Dalish kept (not that having my nose taken up with this nasty air helped me any). My cat-like eyes were already adapting, and I focused my gaze on the two oddly dressed shems that stepped into the alley's entrance. The monsters paid them no mind.

"It leads here," the one wearing the large coat muttered before looking up. I crouched down, keeping my head to the ground as I gathered my strength in my legs beneath me in case I needed to lunge. The beeping stopped as the male shem shoved what he was holding into his coat and peered into the alley, "hello? Anybody down there?"

I hissed; keeping my head low and making cat noises had fooled shem before, thanks to my reflective eyes, and I was hoping the cat-like hiss would work this time, too. The man didn't seem convinced, taking a step further into the alley.

"We just want to help," he said, holding his hands up warily, "I'm gonna go ahead and guess you're not exactly from this planet?"

I scrambled back as he pulled an odd metallic looking thing out of his pocket and lit up the alley with an unnatural light. I bared my teeth and growled as the shadows that hid me were chased away, hoping maybe an act of Dalish savage would be enough to get him to run.

He froze when he saw me, a look of bewilderment flickering across his face. Surprise at seeing a Dalish in the midst of a city?

"Shit," he cursed and I growled again, struggling to keep myself up. The arrow in my chest was making it hard to breath, "Gwen, I think we might need Santa's helpers for this one."

"Go away," I spat, grabbing up my longsword. It shook in my grasp and I wiped at the blood trickling from my mouth to hide the shaking.

"Hey," the shem took another step forward, "you're probably really confused right now, but it looks like you need some help. We can help you, and we've got some other elves that might be able to explain things to you, okay? Can you stand?"

I tried to get to my feet, but they didn't want to stay there. Barkspawn was there for me to lean on as I dropped back down, and he let out a low whine as my expression drooped with exhaustion.

"Gwen, get the elves out here. Get Owen, too, we're gonna need a healer, considering we can't just take an elf to a hospital without questions being raised," the man said, glancing at the woman before taking a couple more hesitant steps into the alley towards me. For some reason he kept glancing over his shoulder, as if somebody would leap out and try to attack him from behind.

"Stop!" I growled out the words, though they came out as more of a whine as I struggled to put myself between him and my unconscious comrades who were fortunately still hidden in the shadows that remained, "please, no further!"

He held his hands up again in peace, but stopped as asked.

"You're bleeding out," he warned me, "and you don't really look like you're in too good of a shape."

"Ha!" I spat out a bitter laugh, ready to focus my tainted blood to my blade the second I needed to, "it's when I'm bleeding out that I am the most dangerous."

"Yes, well, you're going to be dangerously dead soon if you don't let me help you," the man said, confidence growing, taking another step, "what's your name?"

I hesitated, swaying where I crouched. I didn't answer him.

"Look, I'll even tell you mine," he offered, "I'm Captain Jack Harkness. Look, we'll fix you up and find somewhere to put you while we figure this out."

"What if I don't want to be put anywhere?"

"Sorry, buddy, but I'm afraid to say you're stuck here with us for the moment."

I hesitated a moment before opening my mouth, about to answer. Unfortunately, I hadn't noticed Fenris coming around behind me. I'm not sure exactly what it was that set him off, but the short-tempered elf was already leaping forward with a roar, lyrium brands flaring without even pausing for an explanation. The man jumped back with a startled curse, and in one swift movement he pulled something from his belt and aimed it at Fenris. The elf went down hard, lyrium brands going dark before he had even hit the ground.

Barkspawn growled and I forced myself to my feet; my blood trickled up my arms and down onto my blade even as my head seemed full of clouds from the blood I've already lost. I lunged forward, but my exhaustion and blood loss made me sloppy. The man easily dodged my blade and aimed his weapon at me.

I stammered out a plea to Falon'din, asking him to guide me into death.

The sound of Barkspawn's barks and snarls cutting off as the man pointed the weapon at the mabari lunging for him was the last thing I knew before I was forced to give in to the darkness.

* * *

-Marian-

I came awake with a groan and a curse.

"Champion!" a familiar Antivan accent danced through my ears, and when I opened my eyes at a sudden weight on my shoulders, I found that I was face to face with the ex-Crow.

Zevran lacked his usual carefree smirk, the sight of his usually cheerful face cracked through with panic and worry so unfamiliar an expression on his face it left a large feeling of wrongness within me. It was enough to snap me into focus and out of the last few grasping hands of unconsciousness.

"Well, we're not dead, I see," I smirked, letting the elf help me to my feet. He didn't even stare at my butt as I bent over to grab my staff off the ground. How considerate. And worrying. He'd never given up the opportunity before to stare at me in my robes of the pirate captain. Instead, he was pacing.

It was about this point that I realized neither Fenris, Assan, or Assan's mabari were in view. Instead, a trail of blood led out of the alley we seemed to be in. I strolled out of the alley and stepped onto a path of death black stone, hoping to see where the trail went.

Zevran grabbed me and yanked me back to safety just as a humongous shining beast let out a roar, barreling my way with a dreadful screech. I clutched at my now pounding heart as it passed, seemingly uncaring now that I was no longer on its precious black stone. Somebody screamed out a curse, but I didn't know where it came from. Bird was barking up a storm, the large mabari worriedly sniffing me over to see if I was alright once he'd calmed down.

"Careful," Zevran warned, "I saw one kill a squirrel earlier. It didn't even eat it. But they don't leave the black stone."

I shivered, watching the monsters roar past on round feet. I could see people inside them, through the see-through scales on the monsters' sides.

"Did.. Maker's breath, did they eat Fenris?"

Zevran frowned.

"Oh, and Assan," I added quickly, "I'm worried just as much about Assan."

Zevran's frown only seemed to deepen, "Assan was hurt, and they may have been unconscious like we were... But then why were we propped up against the back of the alley?"

The ex-Crow paused and crouched next to the blood trail, holding his chin in thought as he examined the trail of blood and where it cut off as if Assan had been whisked away by a giant bird.

Or eaten by one of those monsters.

"Assan was conscious," Zevran decided, swiping his finger through the blood and examining it as he stood up, "his blood turns darker when he coats his blades with his blood."

"He does what now?"

"Long story involving an immortal, sadistic mage and the Keep where the last of Ferelden's Grey Wardens had their last stand," Zevran said simply, wiping his finger off on his armor, "Assan thought it would be a good idea to drink an odd looking potion sitting on a table. He thought it was a healing potion. Instead of being healed at the time, he now permanently has the ability to make his blood coat his weapons and strengthen the Taint. As a Grey Warden, his Taint does not spread to others, but it's as good as poison."

"Wait, a non-mage doing blood magic?"

"Not blood magic, just- it's complicated!" the assassin snapped, "every minute we waste, he could be- could be-"

"We'll find them, Zevran," I promised. I cast a nervous glance around our bizarre surroundings, full of monsters that stuck to black paths and lights that burned without flames. I closed my eyes and focused, searching for the familiar feel of lyrium that followed Fenris wherever he went. I couldn't help but grin when I caught it, "I've caught their trail. We just need to get across the black stone without the monsters catching us."

The ex-Crow scanned the road warily, "will your magic work on the monsters?"

"Do you see any Templars?"

"No."

I took a deep breath, "then we'll just have to try. I can sense Fenris' lyrium. If we follow it quickly enough, we should be able to follow it to wherever they are."

"Well, let's raise a little hell, then, mage."

I grinned and pulled my mana forth, my hands bursting into flame.

"My dear Zevran, you are speaking my language."


	3. Chapter 3

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age, or Bloodsong 13T's work. The cover is now Assan -though it put it sideways for some reason-)

-Assan-

 _"Shhh," Graves lifted a finger to his lips, but I didn't listen. Not much, at least. The tears wouldn't stop rolling down my face enough for that, "look, it's alright now, see? We'll wrap up your hands and they'll be good as new, yeah?"_

 _"Hurts," I sniffed, wiping angrily at my face. I was almost sixteen summers and here I was, a proud Dalish soon-to-be hunter, sobbing and sniffling like a newborn babe! It left me feeling even worse than I already did. Graves Cousland was of only eighteen summers, and **he** wasn't crying! _

_He didn't have to be subjected to that damn shem's 'Tame the Savage' game, I couldn't help the bitter thought. I felt bad about it immediately. Here the young noble was, doing his best to wrap up my bloody wrists and do what he could to ease my pain, and all I was doing was wishing for company in my misery. I felt terrible for having even thought it as I wouldn't wish for anybody else to be subjected to 'Tame the Savage.' I did not deserve to ever receive my vallaslin. Especially after how easily Bann Hyder's so called game had left me so broken._

 _"Here," Graves Cousland paused and scooped up his tiny little runt of a mabari puppy and handed the creature to me. The dog squirmed in my arms, little tail wagging like mad, and I couldn't help but give the smallest of smiles as the tiny creature squirmed around in my arms in an attempt to reach my face, little tongue already lapping at the air in an attempt to lick my face, "see? Barkspawn and I are both here. It's okay now. You're okay. You're going to be okay."_

 _I was still trembling terribly, but it began to lessen in intensity. Graves sat nearby, close enough for me to know he was there, yet far enough that I didn't feel threatened. The older boy leaned his head back against the stone wall of the tiny cell the noble kept us both in, the look in his eyes making him look older than his years, "when my father comes, he'll stick his sword right up that asshole's ass-" he cut himself off at my flinch, "I mean, they'll talk it over. Definetly. My father is quite good at negotiating. Worst case scenario- he negotiates a separation of Bann Hyder's head from his shoulders."_

 _"And best case scenario?" I sniffed, wiping at my nose._

 _Graves grinned, a toothy, malicious grin, "well, perhaps he might aim a little lower. A lot lower."_

 _"Below the belt lower?"_

 _"Exactly."_

 _I nodded, face dark._

 _"Good."_

 _I paused for a moment before scooting closer until my side was pressed against his side. He didn't get mad or try to shove me away and after a moment I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, letting a sigh that voiced the exhaustion and fear I held within me. Barkspawn licked my face one more time before settling, making himself comfortable before trying for sleep._

 _"Thank you, lethallin," I said, meaning my words, "I don't know what I would do without you here."_

 _Graves didn't answer for a long moment, but he leaned his head against mine, a comforting weight on top of my head. Surrounded by stone and cold and darkness, we huddled together and pretended we weren't terrified._

I awoke from a memory again, one which didn't slip away as easily as the other had. Probably because last time I was forced awake by magic; unfortunately, it seemed I was coming around of my own free will, and so the remains of the memory I had been forced to relive in my head was fresh in mind, as if I had lived it just yesterday. I felt like a kid again, terrified, only this time I was alone with nobody to aid me.

Plus I was not dead.

Well, that was disappointing.

Well, I had better at least make use of it. I self-consciously rubbed my thumbs against the tanned scars that encircled both wrists like bracelets, thinking back on the darkest time of mynlife before purposefully shoving the memories aside to focus on the present, glancing around and examining myself and my surroundings.

My armor was gone and I had been put in some sort of soft pants that most definitely wouldn't do much to block a blade. My chest and bad shoulder had been covered in bandages, and hurting enoigh for me to know they hadn't had a mage fix me up, and I made a point of not looking at the scars that littered my body; perhaps the idea of a weakened Dalish would sway them from wanting a game of 'Tame the Savage'... or it could always simply make them want to play it more. I scowled and searched the room.

Back then, I had been nobody. Some useless apprentice who was stupid enough to get caught in the first place. But now? Now I was Warden-Commander. I was Hero of Ferelden. I was **somebody.** My dignity wouldn't be able to take that hit, not this time.

I would sooner die than ever have to be subjected to 'Tame the Savage' again, but I didn't have any weapons.

I turned around and came face to face with a familiar looking elf. I leaped back, startled, surprised by how see-through the elf seemed to be. He had the same vallaslin I had, and he looked at me seeming about as surprised as I was. I looked first at his face, then at his dark brown hair, then my eyes went to the bandages that covered his chest.

I reached forward slowly, half expecting the other Dalish to attack or for my hand to go through him. Instead, my fingers touched cold, hard glass.

I gasped and leaped away from my reflection -and the glass- as if I had been burned. I didn't realize I was backing away from it until my back hit the wall. The cell I was in was small, so there wasn't much distance between me and the glass, and the memory of the Taint burning through my blood, the song that had rang in my head a dim echo of a memory that I struggled to force away. I glanced around, the idea that I was alone (unless, of course, you count the weird looking creature in the cell opposite of me that faintly reminded me of a darkspawn with the ugly mug it must call a face) finally hitting me.

I lifted my head and let out a piercing howl, but I didn't get one in answer. I remembered seeing Barkspawn going down as that damned shem had pointed his weapon at him, and the tears started rolling down my face before I could stop them, my breath coming in gasps as my chest grew tight and breathing seemed to escape me. I scanned the cell and the area outside that I could see for any sign of Fen'Harel, who was sure to come for me without Barkspawn to keep him at bay. And I had vowed, to Falon'Din himself, that I would watch over the Cousland mabari. I had promised, for the only one who had been there for me while I was trapped by Bann Hyder, but it seemed I had broken it. I had let Graves down, just like I had let Tamlen down. Oh, Tamlen! The glass that kept me trapped in the cell seemed to mock me. Was it just me or could I sense the Taint in that glass? Was it like the mirror? Could I hear the song again? Feel the Taint surging through mt blood? End up like Tamlen? Would Zevran be forced to run me through, as I had done to Tamlen? To one of the few I dared call lethallin? Called brother? I couldn't breath. I couldn't-

My ears picked up the sound of rapid footsteps and I wiped furiously at my face, forcing myself to get back in control of myself, trying with all my might to stop hyperventilating, to cut this panic attack off right now! If one of those damned shems saw me like this-

There was an odd sound, and a door swung from the glass.

"Copy my breathing," the shem ordered, not reaching the moment she saw me flinch away, "breath like this."

Breathing only got harder as I forced myself as far into the corner of the cell as I could, making myself as small as I could.

"I just want to help you, okay?" the female shem said, her expression pleading, "please, just copy my breathing."

I trapped a breath and lifted my head, letting out a louder bowl than I had before. This time, it was answered. The prison halls erupted with the sound of Barkspawn's desperate howls and barking. The shem looked startled, but her face set stubbornly and she left the cell in a run without even closing the door.

Barely a second later, a huge brown mabari lunged into the cell, nearly bowling me over as he threw himself at my side. His heavy weight was familiar and his tail seemed to way faster than eyes could tell as he whined and struggled to reach my face to leave me soaked with his drool-filled kisses. I hadn't failed my canine friend, hadn't failed Graves Cousland. Barkspawn was okay. My faithful friend was okay. And, even better,'Fen'Harel was once more kept at bay.

Breathing got steadily easier now that Barkspawn was here. I whined, trying to portray to him that I was as happy to be reunited as he was.

The door was closed, already, by the time I had gotten myself back under control, and the female shem stood outside of it looking in at me. I ignored her, allowing myself a smile as Barkspawn managed to bowl me over and covered my face with big wet dog kisses. I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me as I clung to my precious mabari.

Barkspawn would protect me from Fen'Harel. He was big enough, now, to dissuade shems from wanting to play 'Tame the Savage' too.

"Are you okay?"

"No," I said. Sten, bless that painting-loving, cookie obsessed qunari, had taught me well.

She leaned against the glass, trying for a harmless look, "do you need anything?"

"I need to leave."

If she was surprised by my short answers, she didn't show it, "my name is Gwen."

I paused in petting the mabari that leaned against me and let out a happy sigh at having my mabari back, safe and sound, "you were with the other shem."

"Yes," she nodded, "what's your name?"

I looked her dead in the eyes, steeling my expression, "no."

"No?"

"No."

She frowned, "something tells me you're not going to tell me anything at all."

"That something is correct."

"Even though I let you have your dog in there?"

"Barkspawn is no mere dog," I said, looking at her with a faked expression of shock, "he is a noble beast! Fen'Harel himself dares not near while I am under Barkspawn's protection!"

"Fen'Harel? Someone is after you?"

"Yes."

She looked disappointed, probably having expected an explanation, "so... the one thing between you and this Fen'Harel guy is a dog?"

"Yes," I said simply. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but she seemed to let it go.

"So... a friend of mine said you're something called a Dalish?" she said, crossing her arms, "and a Warden? They'd like to talk to you, but there's... let's just say a problem has come up."

I froze; disappointed that I had stopped petting his head, Barkspawn looked up at me and nudged my hand. I resumed petting him.

"Oh, did the armor give it away?" I rolled my eyes, "you had better return that, by the way."

"We've got the Hero of Ferelden here," she said, realizing she was quickly losing me, "you can trust us."

A deep voice spoke up from somewhere to my left (another cell?), bitter and angry, "you're looking right at the Hero of Ferelden, slaver. Can we still trust you? When you lie to us as naturally as your heart beats?"

"Slaver?" I growled out the word, instantly tense, barely allowing myself time to be relieved that Fenris (though an elf I hadn't known for too long) was alright.

"No! We're not slavers!" she said hurriedly, struggling to regain the peace she'd barely managed between us, and I could see her confusion on her face, "I swear! You wouldn't even be in there if you and your buddy, here, hadn't tried to kill us!"

"You said we were trapped here!" Fenris snarled, "and I will not go back to being somebody's pet guard dog!"

"I-" something screeched in the shem's pocket and she pulled it out quickly and put the thin square to her ear. Her face went deathly pale and she took off without even saying goodbye. How rude. "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU MEAN ONE OF THEM TURNED INTO A DRAGON!?"

Something slammed into the glass in the cell beside me. Fenris' efforts were rewarded with a loud thunk and I heard him let out a heavy string of Tevinter curses.

"You're not concerned that the dragon's going to eat one of them, are you?" I frowned and glanced at the wall, "I hope the thing uses them as toothpicks."

Fenris let out a roar, and a moment later a glowing blue elf was stepping into view in front of my cell. He slammed his fist on some sort of mechanism and the door swung open.

"Creator's have mercy," I breathed, staring at the freedom that had just been dropped into my lap, "how-?"

"I moved my fist through the glass, then I moved the rest of me," he snarled, lyrium brands still bright blue, "come on! We need to get our armor and our weapons!"

"You- you moved through the wall!"

"Yes! Now come on! We can't let them hurt that dragon!"

"It's a dragon! If they don't-"

Fenris slammed me against the wall, teeth bared and a deep growl rumbling from his throat, "MARIAN IS THE DRAGON!"

If anything, this made less sense to me than Fenris moving through the wall.

"Wait, hold up," I shoved him off me and made a show of brushing myself off, as if I didn't want to deck the other elf, "so you can move through walls and your girlfriend turns into a dragon."

"Says the man non-mage who uses blood magic," he snarled.

"It's not blood magic!" I snapped, "it's not even my fault! I mean, sure, it was pretty stupid to just drink some random- you know what, does it really matter!? Let's go!"

-Marian-

Zevran let out a whoop as I crushed monsters and stormed down the black stone path on four black-scaled feet, "rear up! Rear up!"

I reared like a horse, letting loose a burst of flame that lit up the night, and the giddy assassin clinging to where my neck met my shoulders let out an excited 'yee-haw!'. The monsters screeched and ran before me, some even going so far as to abandon the black stone they guarded so dearly. Some were so afraid that they spit up the humans they had eaten, who then ran off screaming without even pausing to thank me for saving their lives. I stomped on one of the monsters, letting out a vicious roar as I slaughtered the beast. Take that, human-eating piece of-

Something sharp and burning hit my ankle and I halted, kicking out at whatever had just attacked me. I snapped my gaze to the ground, searching for my attacker. An elf was grinning up at me, twirling his daggers before lunging towards me again.

I let loose a rumbling growl and spread my wings. Before I could take off into the air, an something hot and burning pierced one of my wings and I let out a mighty roar of pain (no, it was most definetly not a yelp.. okay, it was), its presence accompanied by a sharp crack that pierced the air.

Zevran twirled his daggers and took a running start, "I got it!"

The assassin slid down the smooth scales of my back like it was some sort of slide, and with a flick of my tail I sent him flying towards the elf who had attacked my ankles. I let him take care of it, more concerned with the giant birds now attacking me from the sky. I hadn't know the monsters had air support! More burning pain erupted across my flank; they were firing some sort of mini fireballs at me!

I let loose a pained cry and pinned my wings close. An elf was running up towards me, and I reached around quickly and snatched it off my back.

Zevran?

I rumbled out an apologetic growl at the glaring elf and moved to put him down, but my attention caught on the two fighting elves that bumped against my foot. Only problem was that I saw Zevran fighting that elf, and yet Zevran was still in my hand.

I snapped my head back around towards the Zevran in my hand, who had worked an arm free and was trying to reach a dagger. I looked back at the Zevran fighting the ankle-biting elf, then looked back to the Zevran in my hand. Now that I was holding Zevran, the tiny fireballs had stopped, which was actually a huge relief because, uh, OW. It seemed Not-Zevran was working for the human-eating monsters, and they didn't want him to get hit.

I snapped my wings open and launched myself into the air. I took out one of the giant bird monsters with a swipe of my tail and chomped another in half, careful not to crush the assassin-possibly-actually-not-Zevran in my claws. I swooped low to the ground, spitting out a gust of flame that waved over the corpses of the monsters I had slain. They weren't so eager to attack me now that I was bigger than they were.

The Zevran I was holding proved he wasn't Zevran as soon as he got his other arm free. He stabbed a sword right into my clawed hand and I let out a shrill cry. I didn't mean to drop him, truelly! And I most definitely did not watch as he fell while sucking on my hurt hand.

Okay, maybe I did.

The elf fighting real Zevran froze in his fight, watching Not-Zevran plummet to his death, his face twisted with pure horror as he watched the other elf drop. He let out a sharp cry, shoving Zevran off of him and racing towards Not-Zevran (well, towards where Not-Zevran seemed to be falling towards). I sucked on my finger, contemplating the odd feeling of a forked tongue on scales, and watched the little asshole plummet.

But Not-Zevran looked so similar to Zevran that I felt bad and, with a growl that would have been a colorful curse had I been able to speak, I swooped down after the little shit. I caught him just before he hit the ground.

Not-Zevran was shaking, but he didn't look like he was going to keel over and he didn't look hurt, so I counted it as a win and circled back around; I took out the last bird monster as I did so, proud of myself for saving these people from the ferocious, fireball spitting bird monsters. Unfortunately, I was so focused on the bird monster that I missed the shiny mountain in my way and crashed right into it.

Usually when I'm a dragon I don't have to worry about such obstacles. Probably because I had only managed to talk Flemeth into teaching me how to shapeshift last week (the look on her face when I figured out how to turn into a dragon was priceless!) and, considering there wasn't often enough room to be a dragon, I wasn't all that good at being a dragon. With an ungraceful snarl (Okay, I'll admit it: it was more of a squawk than a snarl), I flapped the mighty wings I wasn't used to having and skimmed the shiny surface of the- was this thing some sort of tower? I cried out as I dislocated my left wing and flapped wildly with one wing while shaking the shards of the fragile surface I had crashed into off my scales.

Not-Zevran got loose as I plummeted, clinging to my arm and gradually scaling further up as I dropped (more of a flop, really) towards the ground. I slammed into white stone and by that time he was high enough not to get hurt, clinging to my scaly hindquarters. I could hear the little asshole laughing as he pulled out an odd looking black thing and pointed it at me. A second later I felt the (by now familiar) feel of one of those mini fireballs piercing my scales. Unfortunately, due to where he was, I felt the mini fireball bite into my hindquarters. That little shit just shot me in the ass!

I let out a cry of rage, struggling to get my bearings. I'd messed up the dislocated wing even more in the fall, and my whole left side was so numb from the landing that I couldn't figure out how to get them to move, flopping back onto my side as soon I had managed to get them beneath me. I let out a mournful bay, my head flopping onto the ground from exhaustion as I watched Not-Zevran race towards my neck like his ass was on fire. I could probably arrange that, but I was so exhausted by this point I wondered if it was even worth the effort.

Keeping this form together was hard, and getting harder by the minute as it drained my mana. But I knew if I let it drop, they'd probably drag me off to the Templars here. Tranquil or death? Dying as a dragon seemed pretty grand. I could see it now, splayed across the cover of one of Varric's books: The Death of the Champion! Killed by her own Stupidity After Face-Planting a Huge Tower That She Probably Should Have Noticed!

"This one has wings!" Not-Zevran announced victoriously, beaming, (and damn, he even sounded like Zevran), glancing towards the other elf, who looked much more relieved now that Not-Zevran wasn't falling to his death, "that has to be at least a hundred points, no?"

The other elf let out a relieved chuckle, "I don't know, Zev, looks like the stupid thing took out itself."

I growled and tried to get up. I'll show you stupid! Let's see whose stupid when I set your elven ass on flames! The elf standing on me shot a hole through my good wing and I screeched at the pain and did an ungraceful flop, trying to crush the bastard. That had hurt a lot more than pinging off my scales. The elf pulled free his sword and raised it, preparing to drive it through my neck.

"Stop!" the word was screamed out and the elf hesitated. The real Zevran reached us in a matter of minutes, his nose bleeding profusely. He didn't seem to notice, waving his hands around in the air, "stop! Don't hurt her!"

The two elves who had attacked us both gave pause.

"Fat chance, imposter," the dark-haired of the two elves said, "Zevran! Kill that thing before-"

I shook Not-Zevran off, struggling up onto my feet. To hell with this. I began to shrink, and my Zevran lunged forward to catch me as I, now human, found that my feet didn't want to support me.

"Champion?" the Zevran's grip on his sword was white from how tightly he clung to it, using his other arm to help me remain standing, "oh, please don't die! If you die, I have no doubts Fenris would rip out my heart! I quite like my heart staying where it is supposed to be, no?"

The two elves we had been fighting, on the other hand, were simply staring at us with shocked faces. Not-Zevran hurriedly elbowed the dark-haired elf, staring at me with wide eyes, "Bannon, I think I want to bang a dragon."

I glowered at Not-Zevran, pointing my staff at him in warning even as Zevran let out a soft 'oh no' from beside me.

"You shot me in the ass," I glared, "you shoot the ass, you don't get to touch the ass."

Real Zevran was quick to put in his two sense, "well, in that case, may I mention that I have never, ever, shot you in your fine-"

"Finish that sentence and I will set you on fire," I warned, "not in the mood right now, Zev."

"Ah, not if your boyfriend took out my heart first," he shrugged, grinning, "but it seems you are alright, no? Well enough to threaten lives, at least, and that means my heart gets to stay where it is yet another day, yes?"

"Wait, hold up!" the dark haired elf said quickly, "did you just say Zev? Your name is **Zev?** "

"Oh no, you don't get to call me Zev, only my friends can call me Zev," Zevran frowned, grin disappearing, "I do not take kindly to those who try to kill me and my friends. You may call me Zevran, but you are not my friend."

"But you're not Zevran," the dark-haired elf -had Not-Zevran called him Bannon?- gestured to Not-Zevran, "he's Zevran."

"Ha!" Zevran let out a sharp laugh, "I'm pretty sure you're wrong, on account of the fact that **I** am Zevran."

"Well, I'm pretty sure you are in the wrong," Not-Zevran said, crossing his arms, "for I am quite certain that **I** am Zevran."

"Hey!" I growled, stopping the argument before it could go any further, "I don't care if neither of you are Zevran and you're both a couple of dwarves stacked on top of each other! If you don't tell me what you did with Fenris-"

"And Assan!" Zevran growled, quickly back on track now.

"-and Assan-"

"Don't forget Barkspawn!"

I grit my teeth, "-if you don't tell me where they are right now, I'm going to turn back into a dragon and this time I will eat you!"

"It's not up to them!"

I snarled and turned, making Zevran curse as I almost pulled him over. The human wearing the long coat who had managed to sneak up behind us did not seem afraid to have a mage's stuff so close to his face.

"If you want to see your friends, then I suggest you put away your weapons and come with us," he said, "we've got a lot to explain to you."

The man glanced around at the destruction all around us.

"Like, first of all, how the hell you turned into a dragon."

I frowned, but I glanced to Zevran. He was biting his lip, but seemed to find his voice.

"Is Assan okay?"

"Assan? Is that the glowy one?"

"Fenris? You have Fenris?" I couldn't help the relief that flooded me and I barely noticed that I had lowered my staff, "is he alright?"

"They're both fine," the man nodded, "we just want to help. Though, you have kind of made it a bit difficult with all the cars and helicopters you smashed. Do you know how hard it's going to be to cover this one up?"

"Cars? Helicopters? You mean the monsters? They attacked first!"

The man sighed and ran his hand down his face, "do you want to see your friends or not?"

"Fine," I straightened up as much as I could, being too exhausted to stand and all, "take us to them."

He nodded, grinning now and offering me his arm, "well, I always do enjoy showing around beautiful ladies. Er, dragons."

I took his offered arm, my strength already coming back to me. Beautiful lady? I could work with that. People usually underestimate beautiful ladies. I gave him a sweet smile, "I think I would like that very much. I really am sorry about the mess; I was just so worried about my friends, you know?"

He smiled back, but something told me he wasn't fooled by my 'harmless' demeanor.

"Well, let's get you to your friends."

"Jack!"

The man paused and I quickly offered a sweet smile to the man running our way. He was breathing heavily, but the worried look quickly turned to interest as he returned my smile.

"What's wrong, Owen?" 'Jack' frowned, and the man, Owen, seemed to snap back to himself, tearing his eyes away from me, grin falling quicker than a dwarf thrown off a cliff.

"So, uh, well it turns out the glowing one can move through walls. And they may or may not be loose in Torchwood. Toshiki says they've kidnapped Ianto."

I felt Jack's arm stiffen.

"Oh, that must be Fenris!" I grinned innocently, "you should see him do that thing where he rips a man's heart out of his chest!"

It worked. After hearing that, they moved a lot quicker, and the sooner I know Fenris is alright the better.


	4. Chapter 4

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age or Bloodsong 13T's works. Ianto, in advance, I am so sorry.)

-Assan-

Our first hostage said his name was Ianto. He didn't seem too impressed with us, considering Barkspawn decided he was an alright dude and left the whole left half of his face soaked with dog drool (and some of his hair was left sticking up a bit, too, thanks to the drool, but I didn't inform him of that tidbit).

"So, you're a Warden," the shem broke the silence that we'd been in for the past few minutes we'd spent wandering in circles.

"Yes," I said after a moment. We'd tied the man up and I had him tossed over my shoulder and I couldn't help but wonder if it was weird to talk to somebody you were lugging around like a sack of potatoes.

"So is the glowy one the leader then?"

"No."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"No," Fenris said from up ahead.

"The other elves I've met were far more talkative," Ianto told me.

"Congratulations."

"He doesn't shut up when you're an allie," Fenris cut in, voice sharp and angry. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Can I get your name at least?" Ianto asked me, "considering all I see is your rear, we might as well attempt to make it less awkward, perhaps?"

"Hmm," well Barkspawn liked the guy, so I suppose talking to him wouldn't hurt, "I am Assan, Warden-Commander of Ferelden's Grey Wardens, usually known as the Hero of Ferelden."

"Assan?"

"It means arrow in my people's language," I explained, "a good name for a hunter, I think."

"You're a hunter?"

"One of the best in my clan," I said proudly before frowning, "well, I was, at least."

"What happened?"

"My dog may like you, but I am most certainly not telling you my entire life story, shem," I said, pausing to catch my breath against the wall. Barkspawn whined and leaned against me, and I patted my loyal hound on the head, hoping to let him know that I was okay. They'd taken the one health potion I had while I had been unconscious, so it looked like I was stuck with the old fashioned way of healing for now. At least until we found Zevran and Hawke.

"We don't have time to stop!" Fenris warned me, pacing back round to where I was lagging behind. He gave me one look and shook his head, holding his hands out, "give me the prisoner. Even I can tell you're in no shape to carry him right now."

I didn't argue, handing Ianto over. He let out a cry of pain when Fenris roughly tossed the man over his own shoulder.

"Maybe I should take him- hey! Put me down!" I pounded my fist against the other elf's back after he'd scooped me up onto his other shoulder, but to no avail. At least he had been more careful with slinging me over his shoulder than he had with Ianto; said shem was staring at me, and he seemed less like a prisoner to me now that we were sack potatoe buddies.

"As much as you attemped to hide it, I saw your limp," the other elf grunted, "you're slowing down due to your wounds, and I am not letting you slow me down. We need to find Hawke."

"And Zev."

"I could care less about the Crow."

"Ex-Crow."

"I don't care. Whether he lives or not doesn't matter to me, as long as Hawke is okay."

Fuckin' flat-ear! I like my heart right where it is, though, and so I didn't say it aloud.

"So," I turned my attention to Ianto, "you **hang** out around here often? Do you mind if we **hang** \- ow! You ran me into that wall on purpose!"

"If you say a pun again I will leave you behind," Fenris growled.

I blew the flat-ear a rasberry. I turned my attention to Ianto, figuring talking to the shem would be less awkward than staring down at Fenris' rear, "what are you wearing?"

"Oh, uh," Ianto paused, "it's.. it's called a suit."

"Oh, like the ones the shems wear to their fancy parties!"

"Yes, I suppose kind of like that," he frowned at me, "do.. you often change moods so quickly?"

"I like you," I told him, "so far you seem pretty alright."

"So you've decided I'm worthy of being talked to, have you?" he frowned.

"No, I've decided you're not a dipshit," I answered, "I'm not too fond of talking to dipshits. You've passed so far."

"How kind of you," he sighed and stared up at the ceiling. It seemed like he was done talking for now.

"Hey, Fenris-"

"Please just- just shut up."

I scowled, voice low as I hissed out my words, "Fenris, put me down. Now. I hear somebody coming."

He put me down and dropped Ianto against the hallway wall. His lyrium brands lit up, both of us unarmed but ready to fight anyways as he tilted his head to catch the scuff of a footfall then falling smoothly into an attack stance as he noticed it too.

"Don't kill them," I ordered, waiting until Fenris gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, "Ianto may not know where Zevran and the Champion are being kept, but somebody else might."

He nodded, "keep behind me, if you can. Hawke would probably be disappointed if the Hero of Ferelden died on my watch."

"It touches me to know how much you care about me, Fenris," I huffed, preparing myself for a fight despite how much my body was beginning to hurt. It was as if I had been numbed, but that numbness was quickly wearing off.

"I like to keep my priorities straight."

"Well, that's not something we can agree on. My priority's a bit curved. In the direction of Zevran's pants, actually. Mmm.. yes, my priorities are very, very not straight."

"We're not friends, Warden-Commander," Fenris said, not looking at me, "so how about we keep things on a need to know basis?"

"Mmmm.. wait, what? Sorry, I zoned out a bit, there."

The footsteps were growing louder and we both silenced, instantly serious. Fenris nodded his head towards Ianto, and I moved towards our bound captive on silent feet. Barkspawn glanced our way as I pulled Ianto close to me and covered his mouth with my hand, the shem squirming in my grip. My mabari didn't move, smart enough to know that his claws would click against the oddstone floor.

The woman had barely turned the corner before Fenris had slammed her into the wall, entire body alit from the fierce glow of his brands. The dark-haired woman stared at him in shock before noticing me. Her eyes steeled with determination when she saw Ianto, and when she looked to Fenris, her expression was one of defiance. Fenris growled at the sight of it and lifted his hand, about to shove it through her chest, about to hold her heart in his hands and demand the answers he wanted.

I could hear the rapid pounding of her heartbeat, quick and fluttery. It reminded me of the beat that lurked beneath the-

Ianto jerked, sudden and quick. He ducked and slammed his shoulder into my gut, digging into the same exact spot I had been hit by an arrow. I cried out in agony, unprepared for the attack, and when Ianto pulled away I could see that the white bandages wrapped around me were already blossoming with red. He'd reopened it.

"Tosh! Run!"

The lady, Tosh, didn't need told twice. She obviously knew when she was out-matched, for she took advantage of Fenris getting distracted and slammed her knee right up into his crotch. The elf went down and she took off back the way she had come. Barkspawn barked and snarled viciously, but I let out a shrp whistle before he could run off after her and possibly end up getting outnumbered and hurt.

"Dread wolf take you, shem!" I snarled, shoving Ianto away. He didn't seem to care, looking resigned to whatever our retaliation might be yet quite satisfied with himself. I moved to stand, but my body had other ideas, cramping up as the white bandages just got redder and redder with each passing second, "Fenris! You okay, city elf!?"

He groaned, curled up on the ground in a trembling ball of pain. I guess I was right about these soft pants not making very good armor.

"I'll take that as a no," I decided before turning to Ianto, expression twisting into a savage scowl, "where are your people keeping our arms and armor?"

The shem merely lifted his chin defiantly, as if he wsn't afraid, as if his heart wasn't pounding so fast I could see it pressing against his skin.

"I am this close to rethinking your dipshit status," I growled, holding two fingers together.

"Your fingers are touching," Fenris observed as he worked himself to his feet, face scrunched up in pain and irritation.

"Exactly. You are back in dipshit zone," I growled, "Fenris, do your thing, but leave him alive."

"Thing?" Ianto froze as Fenris lit up (lyrium brand wise, his face was a bit scrunched still), "what-"

The man cut off with a scream as Fenris plunged his fist into the man's chest. Ianto's face contorted in pain, and he let out a choked sob.

"That is the feeling of your heart," Fenris' arm twitched, probably squeezing the organ, and Ianto cried out again, "in my hand. Talk, before I rearrange your organs."

"Look," I sighed and crouched down next to Ianto, biting down my pain without even a falter of my concerned expression as I got control of myself again, "we won't kill anybody. We just want to get our friends back, safe and sound. I don't want to be doing this, and Fenris doesn't want to be doing this either-"

"Oh, I do," Fenris growled.

"-and all we want to know is where our armor is, okay? And directions out of here," I put my hand on the man's shoulder, keeping my expression one of concern, "come on, Ianto. Work with me here."

It probably wasn't too easy to think when somebody was squeezing your heart. A distraught look crossed Ianto's face and he seemed to be thinking it over. Fenris didn't give him the chance and the man's face twisted with pain as Fenris squeezed his heart again.

"Okay!" Ianto squeaked, and Fenris released him. Ianto slumped against me, trembling and shuddering, not even noticing as the blood leaking through my bandages stained his suit, "I..uh.."

Fenris lit back up at Ianto's hesitation and the shem winced and quickly continued. A part of me was still surprised he was talking at all, but I've never experienced having my heart in somebody's hands. Literally in somebody's hands.

"I'll... I'll tell you where your weapons are."

* * *

-Marian-

The moving ground surprised me at first; I squeaked when it started to move and clung to Jack, staring in shock as it moved, and Zevran let out a sharp curse and clung to the nearest person as he struggled to keep his balance at the unexpected jolt, which happened to be Owen, who shoved him off. Jack smirked at our reactions, but didn't say anything.

"Welcome to Torchwood," Jack announced as the ground finally stopped moving. He stepped forward and I stepped with him, arm still twined around that of my guide, still grinning as Zevran and I stared in wonder at our surroundings, "this is- whoa!"

Jack ducked, an arrow zipping right through where his head had just been. He ducked back behind the giant dwarven door that was shaped like an odd circle, pulling me with him, and motioned to the rest to stay put.

Zevran didn't listen, picking up the arrow that had been fired. His face twisted into a huge grin and he bounded forward out the door, waving the arrow and letting out a cheery 'mi amor!' as he jogged into the firing zone. A happy barking sounded from the room and I heard a thud and then the sound of Zevran's delighted laughter. Bird left my side, bounding into the room to be reunited with Barkspawn.

A happy 'vhenan!' greeted Zevran back and I relaxed considerably.

"You know these guys, I suppose?" Jack asked me, "that's good. Could you tell them to give Ianto back, then?"

I unwrapped my arm from his, a smile my only answer as I raced into the room, "Fenris!"

The worry in the lines of his face evaporated the moment he saw me. He caught me as I jumped at him, both of us clinging tightly to each other, heads buried in the crook of each other's necks, happy to be back together again.

"Ahem."

Fenris moved his head back, leaning to kiss me-

"Ahem," louder this time, more insistent.

"What!?" Fenris snapped.

Zevran gave him a smile, but it seemed a bit forced as he shouldered most of Assan's weight. The Dalish was paler than I had ever seen him, and I noticed that he had a bunch of red cloth wrapped- oh. That wasn't supposed to be red.

"Andraste's flaming knickers!" I pulled myself away from Fenris, much to his dismay if the irritated huff had anything to say about it, and hurried to the Hero of Ferelden, already focusing my concentration on a healing aura as I pressed my hand against the bloody bandages and focused my magic into him.

"You couldn't leave him for just a moment? He was quieter that way," Fenris joked, leaning against the nearest wall and watching me work. There was a man seated nearby, his hands bound behind him, and he flinched at Fenris' movement. By this point the others had wandered in and Jack immediately went to Ianto's side to untie him, the two hissing at each other in low voices; Fenris tilted his head to get a better angle of hearing.

Assan was already starting to get his color back. Once I was sure he was fully healed, I stepped back and gave him a nod.

"Aaah," he closed his eyes, most likely appreciating the sudden lack of pain; he quickly got the bandages off, rubbing his hand against now unmarred skin, "Champion! If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a better healer than dear old Wynne!"

"Bloody fucking hell."

The man, Owen, was staring wide-eyed at Assan's now unmarred stomach as if the Maker himself had come down and closed Assan's wounds himself. Owen's wide-eyed gaze snapped to me, then to Assan, then back to me.

"That-" he waved his hand aimlessly towards Assan, "you- you just- you-"

Ankle-Biter grinned, looking quite smug as he patted the stuttering man on the shoulder.

"That.." he paused almost long enough for it to be dramatic, "that was magic."


	5. Chapter 5

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's work -seriously, go read their stuff it's great.)

-Assan-

 _"No, no, no," Nikalle scolded me, "Assan! How many times do I need to tell you, you need to focus! Not everything will give you time to talk before trying to kill you!"_

 _"But the deer remind me so much of the Halla," I said, hugging my bow to my chest._

 _"Creators give me patience, da'len," the hunter shook his head, "when the winter months move in and everyone is depending on you to carry them through without starvation, will you return enpty-handed with excuses?"_

 _"No!"_

 _"Are you going to whine about your tasks like a flat-ear!?"_

 _My grip tightened on my bow and I looked away, mouth dry, "n-no."_

 _Nikalle paused before letting out a weary sigh and leaning his back against the nearest tree, "something troubles you, da'len?"_

 _I didn't meet his gaze for a long moment. It made me angry at myself, and I forced myself to do so._

 _"I... some of the.. Mathrian and Danleth say I'm part flat-ear. That.. that I'm not good enough cause I won't see as well or hear as well or- they say I'm not a true elf because..." I scowled in frusteration, "is it true? Am I really part- part flat-ear?"_

 _Nikalle closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "hasn't Ashalle told you about your parents, Assan?"_

 _"Were... were they both flat-ears?"_

 _Nikalle opened his eyes and gave me an amused smile._

 _"The elves that live among shems call themselves city elves."_

 _"Oh," that sounded a lot better than flat-ear, "because when the shems forgot Andraste's promise to Shartan and destroyed the elves' home with their Exalted March, the elves that refused to leave were forced to live in the bad parts."_

 _"Yes."_

 _"What's... what's that like?"_

 _"Well, I've heard they've got a big tree right in the middle that they pretend represents elven heritage," Nikalle sneered at the very idea, "and they allow themselves to be treated as inferior to **shems**."_

 _"Only one tree," I frowned, trying to picture what that would be like. I've never even seen a shem, let alone their cities. If I was stuck somewhere with only one tree, then I might just go insane, "that's.. that's so sad. What.. what about when they die? They don't even plant a tree?"_

 _Those poor elves. I couldn't even begin to imagine how horrible it might be to live in an alienage._

 _"So.. were they both flat-ears?"_

 _Nikalle laughed, "what? No!"_

 _The hunter let out a sad sigh, a small, sad smile on his face as he stared off into past memories._

 _"Your father was the last Keeper, Assan."_

 _I nearly dropped my bow, "Keeper?"_

 _Nikalle nodded, "and your mother was a fl- a city elf, running away from Denerim after shems killed her friend- or was it her sister?"_

 _"I had an aunt? What was her name?"_

 _"Adaia or something," Nikalle waved his hand dismissively, narrowing his eyes as if I might go run off to Denerim at any moment, "it doesn't really matter. The elf is dead anyways."_

 _"But what if- what if I have family? Some- some sort of family! I know the last Keeper- I mean my father- wow, my dad the Keeper! was from another clan, so I don't have anybody here but..." I trailed off with a smile. I could.. I could have family out there! By blood! Maybe, maybe they-_

 _"We're your family, Assan!"_

 _I cut off immediately, ashamed of myself for even thinking of such a thing as running off in search of a family that may or may not exist. And who could say whether or not they'd want me, anyways?_

 _Nikalle paced in front of the tree he'd been leaning against, "do you want to know what happened? Shems! They murdered your father and wounded your mother- in- in cold blood! Your mother barely lasted long enough to give birth to you before grief drove her mad and she disappeared into the woods! Ashalle and I raised you, Assan, Ashalle and I and the Sabrae clan! WE are your family! Not some- not some group of flat-ears in some stinking shem city who couldn't tell a hedgehog from a porcupine!"_

 _I sniffed, wiping furiously at my face as my eyes grew hot with tears. I didn't want to cry, but my breath was starting to hitch anyways._

 _Nikalle froze, tilting his head as he heard my breath hitch, and he whipped his head around towards me. It was like somebody had turned a switch, and all the anger drained out of him like water from a bucket._

 _"It's not true!"_

 _Nikalle huffed out a sharp curse under his breath, "Ashalle told me you weren't ready to know. Shit."_

 _"They- they-" I growled at myself, almost clawing at my eyes, "shems- even shems can't be that- that mean! They would have- would have seen my mother was with child- wouldn't have- wouldn't have..." I gave up, chest too heavy to fight the tears; I hated how lost I sounded as I spoke my words aloud, "she.. she didn't even want me?"_

 _Nikalle's face twisted, as if somebody had jabbed an arrow through his heart and twisted it, "oh, da'len.."_

 _Nikalle was a hunter, not a storyteller. Maybe that was why his words failed him. But actions didn't._

 _He sat beside me as I cried, not complaining as I clung to him, the closest thing I had ever had to a father._

 _"If.. if shems can kill a Keeper... what.. what chance do any of us stand?"_

 _Nikalle was silent for a long moment._

 _"That.. that is why we run, Assan," Nikalle told me, "we have no other choice."_

* * *

I woke up from the memory wishing I could have the nightmares of the archdemon back instead. It was much better than reliving past events every night, and the suspicion of why was even scarier than any nightmare that might dog me in sleep.

I almost freaked out at my unfamiliar surroundings, but the arms around my waist snaked around me a bit tighter the moment I tried to sit up.

"Safe," Zevran promised, sleep making his accent drench his words like honey, "back to sleep, then, mi amor."

I calmed, settling back down as my now awake state brought the day's events back. Escaping. Stuck with Fenris all day. Kidnapping and heart squeezing that poor man who actually turned out not to be a dipshit after all. Torchwood. Getting assigned rooms until we could be sorted out, considering none of these strangers seemed eager to do so at so late a time. Explanations tomorrow, promised to us.

Zevran let out an amused grumble that might have been a failed attempt at telling me to go back to sleep. I let out a small huff of laughter that was more of a sigh and relaxed, comforted by the sound of our breathing as I closed my eyes and tried to decide whether I wanted to chase sleep and risk getting forced into another memory or if I wanted to forgo sleep all together and spend the rest of tomorrow tired -or today, depending on what time it may be.

Until Zev licked the sensitive part of my ear.

I squirmed immediately, my amused huff more of a chuckle now as Zev tightened his grip to keep me from squirming right off the bed; he proceeded to do it again.

"Really, Zev?" I whispered, shaking my head at his antics.

"You only wake so due to nightmares, no? What better way to take them off your mind than to begin taking off our clothes, no?"

The room lit up blue, a silent reminder that we weren't alone.

"Forgot about them," Zev and I both grumbled in unison to each other.

Zev eventually eased off back into sleep. I stared into the dark, softly humming in an attempt to lose the tune dancing at the edge of my mind; it took a little while before Fenris' breathing eased into sleep as well, and once it did I carefully got myself out of bed, careful not to wake Zevran and shoving my pillow into his arms instead. His face twisted into a frown, but he didn't wake up.

I moved on silent feet out of the room, past the room of the stranger elves (that elf, Bannon, and his Zevran. How odd it seemed, still to think that there were other versions of my world out there, and countless Zevran), and I continued moving, examining the odd building in interest. I came across Ianto's room and pushed the door open, figuring he was less likely than Bannon and Other-Zevran to wake up and throw a dagger in the direction of my face.

Ianto was curled up in one of the odd beds this world had and I pushed the door open a bit more before silently moving further into the room. I glanced around what must be his room before creeping closer to the sleeping human. I crouched down next to him, tilting my head at the man. I could hear his heartbeat in the silence of the room.

Steady. Strong.

It seemed Fenris hadn't done any lasting damage, then. As much as I claimed Ianto was back in dipshit zone, I could understand why he had shouldered me like he had; I would have done the same for my friends. But he was alright, and it didn't seem like he was in any danger of dying in the middle of the night.

I nodded, more to myself than anything, and stood up again. I crossed the room again on silent feet, closing the door behind me with a silent click as I escaped back into the hall.

* * *

-Marian-

I heard giggling.

Why did I hear giggling?

I moved to get up, but Fenris tightened his grip around my waist, "not getting up. Too early."

He was right; the sun hadn't even filtered through the room's windows.

"Is... is somebody giggling?" I peeked my head over Fenris' shoulder, but no, the two elves were still asleep, so they weren't up to anything. Wait. There was only one elf there, Zevran, looking quite silly hugging a pillow.

A strange sound filled the night. When it ceased, I heard the giggling again.

He let out a groan of complaint as I moved to get up, but I ignored him and got up anyways. I left him behind and left the room, following the noises to a door in the hall. I pushed it open and the giggling immediately ceased; two glowing eyes turned to stare at me.

"Champion," the slayer of the mighty archdemon greeted curtly.

I cast a mage light and let it bob around my head, squinting to see the elf better. He was on his knees in front of an odd white contraption, up to his elbows in the thing. He stared at me like a fox caught in a henhouse.

"What are you doing?"

The tension eased from his shoulders and he grinned, pulling his hands out of the white bowl before throwing them back in, rewarded by a large splashing sound. I walked closer, tilting my head in confusion as I realized the bottom of the bowl was filled with water.

"Watch this!" Assan reached up and pulled at a handle; the same odd sound I had heard earlier sounded and Assan let out nothing short of a giggle as he grasped at the water rushing down into a hole at the bottom of the bowl.

"Whoa! Move over!" I kneeled down next to the bowl and reached in too. I tried to stifle my laughter, knowing people were sleeping, and it came out in a giggle. Assan and I sat there, waving our hands in the moving water, giggling to ourselves like lunatics.

Assan stopped me when I immediately went to pull the handle the second the water stopped moving, "hear the hissing? It doesn't work unless it's not hissing."

"Then can I pull it"?

"Yes."

We waited patiently for the hissing to stop, and then I reached up and pulled the handle. The water wooshed down towards the hole and Assan and I both plunged our hands into the water, cracking up as the water rushed over our hands.

"Is it magic?" I asked once the water had stopped and we were just splashing around gigglk g to ourselves like weirdos as we waited for the hissing to cease.

"I don't think so," Assan shook his head, grinning. I couldn't help but notice that his canines and the teeth used to bite into things were a bit sharper than those of the city elves that I have seen, but they didn't look as sharp as Merrill's. Hell, they weren't as sharp as **any** of the Dalish I've seen, but they looked sharper than a city elf's. I decided it best not to ask.

I stared at the water, a wonderful idea coming to mind, "Assan."

"Hmm?"

"What if water isn't the only thing that can go down that hole?"

His entire face lit up; he grabbed the nearest thing, an odd looking brush thing chilling on the counter, and threw it in. The hissing had stopped, and he gleefully pulled the handle.

The brushy thing spun around and around and around, but Assan had to reach in and snap it in half before it fit. It went down the hole, gone, and Assan and I stared for a very long moment at he now empty bowl before carefully examining the area for the brushy thing. It was gone.

"It is magical!" I gasped, both Assan and I turning to stare at the magical white water bowl in wonder.

"Whooooaaa. What else can we put in!?" Assan gasped, sticking his hand into the hole. It didn't eat him in. He looked disappointed.

"Food?" I offered.

"Poison?"

"Tevinter?"

"Ark Howe's corpse?"

"Demons?"

"Flemeth?"

"Mean Templars!"

"Darkspawn!"

"Nah," I shook my head, "they're too big."

"You could turn into a dragon, rip them into tiny pieces, and throw them in!"

"That could work! And maybe we can- can throw in... uh..."

"Shems!"

"Yeah! Wait, no- oh, you're joking."

"We could feed it rocks- wait! One of those people left one of those shiny black square rocks downstairs on the store counter! We can throw that in!"

"Endless possibilities!" I agreed.

Assan and I both shared a look and broke into huge grins before we both raced off to find stuff to feed to the magical white water bowl.

It seemed the Hero of Ferelden and I were going to get along just fine.


	6. Chapter 6

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, and Bloodsong 13T's works.)

-Assan-

The little black square was cool in my hands. On one side it was smooth and black enough to show me my reflection. Mirrors show reflections. I turned the mirror stone over in my hand, not wanting to see myself within it.

"Feed me," Hawke squeaked in a high pitched tone, lifting the cover of the magic bowl up and down as it was talking. I laughed at her antics.

I tore my attention from the square and dangled it over the bowl, eyes narrowed as I cackled, "bye, bye, mirrorstone."

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING!?"

Hawke and I both shrieked and fell over in our rush to appear innocent. We weren't stupid; we'd flushed a lot of stuff that we probably shouldn't have.

The mirrorstone fell from my fingers and landed safely on the floor; Owen scooped it up, looking it over for damage before casting us both a furious glare.

"And what, exactly, did you two think you were doing?" he growled out.

I happen to be short, even for an elf. Hell, I only came up to Zevran's shoulders. Bannon and both Zevrans were taller than I. Right here, right now, this shem towered over me and I knew it wouldn't be beneficial for me to kill him, and he looked more than ready to find it beneficial to kill me. I bravely hid myself behind the Champion, hoping the idea of going through the mage would dissuade him from turning his anger physical, like most shems did.

I moved to the toilet, giving him an innocent look. A cute elf usually didn't get in as much trouble for things. I flushed the toilet and threw my hands into the water, giving Owen a lopsided, happy grin, "we're playing with the magic bowl!"

His anger seemed to dissipate instantly. He stood there, watching me play in the water; Hawke shifted uneasily, still standing.

"That's a toilet."

"Okay," I said, continuing to splash in the water.

"You know... uh.. a toilet is where... you know, people... people go to the bathroom," he shifted from foot to foot, eyes glancing somewhere towards the ceiling as he ran his hand through his hair, "that's where.. where people pee and poop?"

"Okay," I said, still playing, "that doesn't seem like a very healthy diet. Isn't it rude to feed it that? Hawke and I gave it some variety."

He stared at me like a child given their first June's knot, "it.. it isn't alive."

"But it ate the other stuff."

He stiffened instantly, tone sharp and edged with an underlying cold when he spoke, "what other stuff?"

Hawke made to try and escape, "you know, this has been fun, really, but Fenris is probably wondering where I've gone and-"

"Uh-uh," Owen shifted in the doorway, blocking off our only escape, "neither of you are leaving until you wash your hands and arms in the sink, up to the elbow, with hot water for at least ten minutes. Repeatedly. I want to see you both using soap."

We stared at him blankly.

"And no more playing in the toilet," he scowled, pointing towards the other thing in the room besides the odd looking tub, "are you two five? Hands. Wash them. Now."

"Okay, dad," Hawks rolled her eyes but she hurried towards the sink. I quickly followed her.

Owen quickly discovered that he had to explain to us how to use it, which seemed to irk him more.

"What did you flush?" he asked once we had gotten the hang of washing our hands in the weird wash bin.

I didn't answer, obediently scrubbing at my arms and hands.

"One of those brush sticks," Hawke said proudly and nodded her head towards the brush sticks that we hadn't flushed, "we ripped up a sock we found and flushed that, flushed some weird paper stuff we found in a brown alone pocket-"

"You flushed money!?"

Hawke paused, obviously decided he would be bent out of shape about this money stuff, and kept going, "and we flushed a bunch of stuff from that shop you guys have downstairs. Whatever. We flushed stuff."

Hawke lifted her head defiantly, the very image of Champion, daring him to yell at her again.

Owen took a deep breath, clearly contemplating his chances with the mage; apparently he didn't like his chances with a woman who could turn into a dragon, "toilets are not to be played in. That's gross. Taboo. Toilets are not for you to flush random stuff down. You go to the bathroom, you flush, you wash your hands. Got it?"

Hawke and I both grumbled out words of acceptance.

"You're lucky Ianto cleaned in here today, or I would make you wash your hands twenty times," Owen told us, clutching his phone, "and next time I forget my phone at work, do NOT flush it."

"Ir abelas,*" I apologized, "we did not know it belonged to anyone."

Owen glared at me for a long moment, obviously trying to decide whether I was being honest or not. I put on my best ashamed and regretful look, puppy eyes aimed at the floor.

Owen huffed, "don't do it again... and just wash your hands one more time."

I did so, a bit relieved. So far, the shems here didn't seem completely bad.

A couple hours after Owen sent Hawke and I back to bed (not for long, considering that it was already seven a.m.), Jack came in at eight, woke us all up, and declared that it was time for something he called interviews.

I carefully eyed the room he led us to. Zevran claimed the chair he deemed the comfiest and I eventually made my way over and claimed the other one.

Zevran reached towards the bowl that sat on the desk, eyeing the odd colored things within that sparked the reminder of memory within my mind. I smacked his arm lightly before his hand could reach it and reminded him too, "Lady June."

He shuddered and turned his attention away, giving the bowl the side-eye as we both shuddered. Barkspawn did not seem to care, eyeing the bowl sadly as he plopped down at my feet.

"No candy?" Jack seemed surprised, giving us an odd look as he took his seat at the other side of the table.

Zevran and I shared a look, shuddered, and turned our attention back to Jack, replying in unison, "no."

"Alrighty," Jack glanced at us again before situating a stack of papers on the desk, "so this is something called paperwork-"

I should have known this was a trap. I take back what I was thinking this mornings: these shems are absolutely, positively horrible.

I groaned and face-planted the table. Perhaps I could drown myself in my own tears.

Zevran patted my back knowingly, clicking his tongue in sympathy as he shook his head sadly, "he does not like paperwork."

Jack paused, frowning, "wait, so your world does have paperwork?"

"Ge was Arl of Amaranthine," Zevran shrugged, "and Warden-Commander in Ferelden, with nobody he trusted enough to do the paperwork for him. Cannot outrun paperwork when you're stuck in a tower leading the Wardens."

"Don't forget that Alistair decided that my promise to help him be king included doing all his paperwork for him! And they wonder why I disappeared!"

Jack shook his head and grabbed an odd stick that made a clicking noise when he pressed in one end of it.

"What's that?" I raised my head from the table, staring at it, "I think Hawke and I flushed one of those things."

His head snapped up, "you what?"

"What?"

He stared at me for a moment before sighing in exasperation, deciding to leave it be, "it's a pen; think quill only the ink is already inside it," Jack said, "now, names: last, first, and middle initial."

"What's a middle initial?"

"The first letter of your middle name."

"My secret name!?" I gasped, "that's rude! You don't ask people their secret name!"

"You could control somebody!" Zevran narrowed his eyes, "what would you want with our secret names?"

Jack rubbed his hand over his face, "okay: last name, then first."

"You only have two forms," I realized.

"There's.. two of you," Jack frowned.

I frowned back and pointed at my dog.

He apparently decided that he didn't feel like arguing with me about it, for he simply grabbed a third form and put it next to the other two.

I looked to Zevran.

"Arainai, Zevran," Zevran said, looking bored already now that the middle name business had passed. He shot me a look, silently pleading for me to find a way to talk us out of this.

"Cousland, Barkspawn," I pointed towards Barkspawn before pointing at myself, "Mahariel, Assan."

Jack wrote them down and I watched the pen in wonder as it left a trail of ink like footprints, words blooming from its tip like magic from a mage's fingertips, "any known medical conditions, diseases, handicaps, allergies or debilitating phobias?"

"What is an allergy?" I asked.

Jack looked up from the forms, thinking for a moment before he answered, "things that make you sick that might not make others sick."

"Oh!" I perked up, "Ghilan'nain's disfavor!"

"What?"

"Ghilan'nain's disfavor!" I repeated, "occasionally a child is born or a city elf joins us, but the mother of the halla looks negatively on them, and the halla milk is like poison on their bodies."

"Well, uh, sure," Jack said after a moment, "uh, like that I suppose. Only not just hall or whatever milk. Some people are allergic to other things, like peanuts or animals or such."

My cheerful expression dissipated into a glare, "halla. Not hall. Halla. Sacred to the Dalish."

"Well, I guess that explains why the Dalish believe lactose intolerant people are simply not in a god's good graces," Jack murmured to himself, ignoring my correction of 'goddess' and instead asking, "so do you guys have answers?"

I huffed and looked away, petting Barkspawn's head as the big mabari sensed my displeasure and plopped his head in my lap in an attempt to make me feel better, "I'm scared of Fen'Harel, I suppose. Barkspawn keeps him away, though, so we shouldn't have to run into him."

"And who is Fen'Harel?"

"Sssshhh!" I hissed, eyeing the shadows as if the Trickster was lurking within hearing; perhaps he was, "don't get his attention!"

"Oooooh-Kay," Jack jotted down Fen'Harel under phobias on my form.

"You probably shouldn't put him near bugs," Zevran smirked, searching for anything to rid himself of his crippling boredom, "he'll get distracted and sit there eating them."

I cast Zevran a glare and slugged him in the shoulder, earning a cry of 'ow' and a pout from the other elf, "I do NOT eat bugs!"

"I've seen you! Just last week you were outside eating lightning bugs and going to catch a cold! And what did you do when I told you to come inside? You ignored me and KEPT eating them!"

Probably best to change the topic, seeing as he wasn't' exactly wrong. I glanced at the forms, displeased by how many questions were left.

"Zevran doesn't like grapes."

"You wouldn't."

I turned and gave Zevran a blank stare, "... don't you want some grapes?"

"He is scared of grapes, too!" Zev cried out, teeth bared, "I do nothing involving grapes! If we were all in a locked room and the only way out was for me to eat even a single grape or we all die, then you had all better start praying!"

"Odd, the other Zevran didn't seem as worried about grapes- wait," Jack looked up, looking doubtful, "you're scared of grapes?"

"Eyes wide, terrified, don't you want some grapes?" I leaned towards Zevran, speaking in a sing-song voice.

"No! Don't you dare sing Lady June's damn grape song!" Zevran shrieked, leaping to his feet; his chair clattered behind him, "are we done with these interviews!?"

I raised my voice, diving from sing-song voice into song, "just one bite and you'll be lost! Just one bite AND YOUR MIND WILL BE MINE!"

Zevran cursed me out in Antivan and stuck his fingers in his ears, "LALALALALA NO!"

With that said he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

"Do I even want to know?"

"No," I shrugged, smile disappearing as I shuddered, "wasn't a pleasant experience for either of us. Maybe I got too mad about the bugs. Zev! Vhenan, wait!"

"Wait there's more paperwork!"

Too late for him; I made my escape, Barkspawn on my heels as I fled the room. Lady June had been good for one thing, I suppose: she got me out of paperwork.

Zevran was waiting around the corner, leaning against the wall and smiling when he saw me, "and the paperwork?"

"Out of it."

Zevran and I shared a fist bump and went out merry way.

At least until Jack tracked us down and forced us to go back to that dreadful room, and there were the forms, chilling on the table. This time Jack locked the door before he sat down.

"Alright," he said, glaring at us, "no mentions of grapes or this so called Lady June, got it?"

Zevran and I grumbled acceptance as we grudgingly took our seats. Barkspawn sat down next to my chair with a quiet woof.

"Country of Origin?"

"Antiva," Zev replied.

"Um.. Barkspawn comes from Ferelden," I offered.

"And what about you, Assan?"

"Umm," I shrunk down in my seat, "I.. don't have one."

"The Dalish people are nomadic," Zevran chirped, "they live a life on the run from the moment they are born to the moment they die."

"The only home a Dalish can have, when the shems chase us so," I said, thinking of Nikalle, repeating what he once told me, when I had asked why we could never stay, "there can be no home until we die and are returned to the soil of Thedas, for the shems chased us from our home for their own greed and will never let us have a home again."

"City elves live in the cities, right?" Jack asked, "why not just go and settle down there? They'd let you wouldn't they?"

"The shems would slaughter our Keepers, steal everything that makes us who we are!" I slammed my hands onto the table, glowering as I leaped to my feet, furious. Barkspawn caught onto my anger and let out a deep, rumbling growl, "they would slaughter our halla! Steal our traditions! Everything we have managed to recover of our once great culture, they would see destroyed! They have forgotten that Andraste once called Shartan brother, that they were friends, and that Andraste gave us a home after Shartan led us to freedom, and yet not two centuries or so later, they slaughtered my people and stole our home, claiming to do so in the name of Andraste when it was only for their own selfish greed!"

My face burned and my chest was heaving.

"Exalted March, that's what they called it," I said, not shouting anymore as I dropped into my seat, "they slaughtered- slaughtered everyone. Men, women, children. All in the name of their Maker and of their twisted, false version of Andraste, simply because we would not turn our backs on the Creators. The Dalish are few and far between, all that are left of those who got away. The rest, those who agreed to convert, were shoved into alienages as second class citizens. They became the city elves, and they are still stuck in those alienages. No. There is forest in Orlais, in the Dales, where the elves made their last stand. Every single tree in that forest marks the death of an elf. It.. my clan passed through it once, when I was a kid... there's- there's hundreds of trees."

Jack frowned, thinking this over, "Bannon and Zevran never told us that."

"They're both city elves," I grumbled, "but to answer your question, no. We're not going to just 'settle there' in the damned cities. I.. they already kill enough of us and our halla as it is. Halla are kind creatures, and the shems would kill them just for their antlers. They would take away everything that.. everything that makes us elves."

I shook my head, feeling sick at the idea. Shems hurting halla. First it's the halla, then-

"I didn't mean to get angry," I slunk down in my seat, scooting a bit closer to Zevran, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Jack looked at me like I had grown a second head, "why are you apologizing? Just- just next time warn me about that sort of stuff before I make a fool out of myself. Now, any next of kin?"

Zevran and I looked at each other before shrugging at Jack.

"I have the Sabrae clan, I suppose," I said.

"Languages?"

"We both speak Common," Zevran said, "I speak Antivan, he speaks a little Antivan, he speaks what's left of the elven language, I speak a little of that."

Jack smiled and jotted it down.

Perhaps he wasn't too bad. I know somebody like Nikalle probably would have held his words against him for the rest of his life, but I knew it wasn't his fault. He hadn't known.

I wondered if they would be interested in any of my people's stories.

Of course, then I had to worry about whether I was allowed to tell Dalish tales to shems.

"Alright, you two are good to go," Jack said, clicking his pen, "meet up with Ianto. After I do the other twos' interview he's taking you guys to get clothes."

"We have clothes."

"Normal clothes."

* * *

-Marian-

I grabbed the entire bowl of candy when we walked in; I was still pretty angry about having been yelled at this morning, so I figured that I deserved this candy.

Jack sat down, stared at me eating through the candy for a moment, then shook his head and pulled out two forms. Paperwork.

Bird wandered in and laid down at my feet, looking as if he was wondering if he should grab a third form.

"You know, Assan did the exact same thing," Jack said after I groaned and face-planted the table, "so I'm guessing that you two know about paperwork."

"Unfortunately," I grumbled.

Jack grinned and picked up an odd device off the table, clicked it, and put it to the paper.

"What's that?"

"Pen: think magical quill with built-in inkpot," Jack answered without missing a beat, as if he had already answered the same question before, "names: last, middle initial, and first."

"What is a middle initial?"

"Your middle-" he cut off, pausing as if he had been asked this, too, "actually, you know what? Nevermind. Just give me your last names, then your first names."

"Hawke, Marian," I said.

Fenris shifted in his seat, frown increasing, "Fenris."

"First name?"

Fenris stared Jack down, "my name is Fenris. No last name."

"Just don't ask," I advised.

"Okay; medical conditions, diseases, allergies, phobias?"

He waited a moment before looking up to meet our stares and sighed before grudgingly explaining. Afterwards, Fenris and I both paused to think it over.

"Hawks must not overexert herself," Fenris said.

I cast my beloved a glare before looking back to Jack, "don't listen to him. If I am needed, I will be there."

"You will not overexert yourself," Fenris turned his gaze on me, brow furrowed, "you never recovered completely after the Arishok gutted you, Hawke, no matter how much you claim otherwise. I don't want you getting hurt."

Maker damn it, him and his damned puppy eyes.

"Fine, you can put that, Captain," I relented, which seemed to surprise Fenris.

"Please," Jack smiled, "call me Jack."

Fenris' head shot around and he fixed the man with a glare.

"So, what's this about an Arishok and getting gutted?"

"Long story."

"Maybe later we can find the time," Jack said casually.

"Maybe later you'll be dead," Fenris said, just as casually.

"Maybe I was talking to both of you," Jack smiled and winked, "anything else for the question?"

"Not that I can think of," I took the initiative of saying, considering Fenris was too busy attempting to glare Jack into a pile of ashes.

"Country of Origin?"

"Ferelden."

"Tevinter," Fenris scowled.

"And I'm guessing the citizenship and vaccines will not be applicable. Any next of kin?"

I looked away, down at my hands before forcing myself to look back up, "Gamlen, in Kirkwall, and Carter, with the Grey Wardens. Can I leave now?"

"Languages?"

"Common."

"Common, Qun, and Tevinter," Fenris answered.

"Alright," Jack filled it in, "now you can go. Meet up with Ianto, will you? He's taking you all to get clothes to fit in."

"Yes! Bye paperwork!"

If anything, I couldn't get out of that room and away from the paperwork fast enough. Clothes shopping sucks, but at least it isn't paperwork.

* * *

*I'm sorry


	7. Chapter 7

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's works.)

Poor Ianto probably looked like a mother duck, all of us in a somewhat line behind him. I was following our guide and Hawks was half beside me and half behind me, and Zevran was behind us both admiring the view while Fenris was angrily snarling threats every time my dear vhenan's eyes shifted from my rear to Hawke's. Barkspawn tagged along right beside me, next to Bird. Ianto led it all, looking a bit miserable leading our ragtag line.

I quickened my steps bit so that I was walking step by step alongside the Otherworld native. I'd rather not be walking next to Zevran at the moment; I love him with all my heart, really, but he'd been absolutely obsesssed with zippers since the moment he found out about them and the sound of him zipping and unzipping his new leather jacket was as irritating as the song that I couldn't shake from my head.

"See anything you'd wear, yet, Assan?"

Barkspawn sniffed a nearby rack as if wondering if he could help any, looking a bit odd in the the little blue vest that Bird and Barkspawn were both wearing. Ianto had tried to talk me out of bringing my mabari, but I was much too smart to do that. It was a nice try, putting the idea into Ianto's head, but I was not easily fooled. Not today, Fen'Harel, not today. Surely, what Ianto needed was to spend more time around Barkspawn and Bird, to better protect him from possible influence.

In the end, we compromised. Ianto found two vests and now Barkspawn and Bird were something called therapy dogs in training, after Ianto questioned Hawke and I about any training they may have had.

Ianto sighed and stopped to examine a rack of something he called ties, "Assan, everybody else has gotten new clothes. There's nothing you like? Nothing at all?"

I glanced back at my comapanions.

Zevran was still messing with the zipper of the leather jacket he had gotten, and I paused to appreciate the tight jeans and white muscle shirt he had chosen. He caught my gaze and waggled his eyebrows, adding a wink for good measure. My cheeks warmed up and I looked away, hoping my blush wasn't too noticeable.

Fenris and Hawke were talking, close together, a fond expression on Fenris' face. The two were both wearing jeans and a t-shirt each, but both looked uncomfortable to be out of their armor. Hawke tilted her head up, soft smile on her face, and Fenris tilted his down, nose to nose with each other. Fenris was smiling. Looked like a personal moment. I left them to it and turned my attention to the clothes around me.

A rather well done, extremely realistic painting was tacked up nearby, portraying a man wearing a suit like Ianto was. I looked at the big lettered words on pictures like it.

Show your confidence!

Show how professional you can be!

Suit up!

"I want a suit like you," I said, turning my attention back to Ianto.

I tried to picture myself in a suit but I couldn't. Even so, if I couldn't have my actual armor, then I would rather have psychological armor, something that would make a shem think 'that isn't an elf I want to tick off' or 'that's an elf who knows what he's doing!' It would save me a lot of bloodstains.

I tried to imagine myself walking around Vigils Keep or Alistair's castle, issuing orders and looking sharp. Showing up all those snobby nobles and making all the shems who had ever chased my clan away from their lands look like chumps.

"Like... me?"

"Yes!" I nodded, excited, "just like yours!"

"Um.." Ianto seemed to falter, as if trying to imagine somebody wanting to be just like him, "... okay... tie or bow tie?"

"Like you're!" I chirped, pleased.

"Tie it is, then," a small smile flickered across Ianto's face, "we'll have to get you fit with one, and I can teach you how to keep it nice, and we can pick out some ties, and-" Ianto hurried forward, mumbling things over to himself, sounding happier. I hurried after, keeping up with him, leaving the rest of the ducklings stuck trailing after us.

Once I'd gotten fit into a suit, Ianto showed me how to make the tie and how to adjust it. I liked adjusting the tie and I did it several times before we had even left the store. The moment we were done and heading back towards the SUV, I went straight to the one who I always told everything to and showed everything to first. Ma Vhenan.

"Zev!" I bounced around him in excitement before attempting a cool walk next to him, trying to appear serious as I adjusted my tie again, pulling the knot down before shoving it up and shifting the rest of the tie, "Zev! Ma Vhenan! Look!"

He gave my new suit an appreciative look, "looking good, mi amor! Maybe later we can... practice taking it off."

I laughed and lightly smacked his arm, amused by the cheeky smile he sent me, "hmmm, depends. Can I practice taking off your new clothes?"

Zevran laughed, "you can take my clothes off anytime you'd like, mi amor."

Fenris shoved past between us, shoving Zevran and I away from each other, "absolutely not!"

Hawke was right behind him, shaking her head as she followed. Bird was right on her now heels, stopping to sniff at Barkspawn before hurrying to catch up.

"Our roomies are quite touchy, Assan," Zevran shot Fenris a dirty look as the elf stormed towards the car muttering about handsy elves. It seemed like the elf liked to storm everywhere.

"What?" I grinned at ma vhenan, "no comment about wanting into his pants?"

"Oh, I've seen the man do his glowy hand thing," Zev shivered and shook his head, "not even I am that stupid. He would probably kill me just for seeming like I was about to suggest it. What a shame."

"You're not stupid at all, vhenan," I said, offering him my arm.

"Oh?" he raised an eyebrow, "what is this? A little gentleman beneath all that wild thing exterior?"

"Perhaps the wild thing is all on the interior."

He took my offered arm with a laugh, and we were both silent until we reached the car. Zev paused with his hand on the handle, not yet opening the door, "you know, the Champion seems to like you."

"Does she?"

"Perhaps enough that Fenris might not do the glowy hand thing to you," he grinned, "should we... borrow the room for ourselves."

"Ah," I smirked, "is this your attempt at getting in my pants despite Broody over there?"

"Maybe."

* * *

-Marian-

Assan had taken his good old time deciding on what he wanted for clothes, so the sun was already sinking by the time we returned to the Hub. The Hero of Ferelden proudly walked in beside Ianto like an overexcited puppy, proudly adjusting his tie (he'd already done that about fifty times just on the way back).

I shook my head at the little elf's antics. He couldn't seem to decide where he wanted to go or where he wanted to be: one second he would be hovering around Ianto like the man was the coolest thing since torches, the next he would be getting handsy in a corner with his Zevran, the next he'd be trying to hunt down the alternate universe Hero of Ferelden, Bannon, who seemed quite intent on avoiding the little Dalish and his dog, and the next he'd be back to hovering around Ianto, who seemed a bit amused by the little elf as well.

About half an hour was spent amusing myself by watching Assan scurry around, spread out with moments where Fenris and I got handsy in our own chosen corner (but that butt in those jeans!? Can you blame me!?). The whole time he was scurrying around, Assan was adjusting his tie repeatedly, especially after his corner time with his Zevran, who seemed more than happy to chill and watch his lover race around. Assan had a stupidly happy smile on his face that reminded me of the one the King of a Ferelden had had on his face the first and last time I had met him. I never thought that the slayer of the archdemon could be such a dork. He reminded me a little of Merrill. Wait, hadn't Assan been in the same clan as Merrill?

I didn't get time to ponder it, as the rest of Torchwood, minus Bannon and his Zevran who had been in the Hub, returned from what was probably a successful mission.

"I've got pizza!" Jack announced his arrival, and the second the word 'pizza' left his mouth the room's elf population grew by two. Already, Bannon had seemingly begun a glaring contest with Barkspawn and Bird, both of whom just looked back at the glaring elf with happy, slobby dog smiles. Bannon did not seem to share the same sentiment.

"What is pizza?" Assan, of course, always quick to question.

"Food," Ianto said.

"Food!" Assan quickly hurried over to Jack, tilting his head up and rapidly circling the poor man not unlike a mabari would upon its imprinted returning from a long trip.

"What's this?" Jack raised the pizza out of Assan's reach, staring at the Dalish with amusement clear on his features, "Ianto Jr.?"

"He wanted a suit, sir," Ianto said simply, the edge of his mouth tipping up into a smile as he relieved Jack of the pizza boxes and set them down on the nearest desk.

Tosh, Owen and Gwen stepped in after Jack; Tosh and Gwen caught sight of Assan and both covered their mouths with their hands. I was close enough to hear the muffled 'awww's despite their best attempts. They were just lucky that the elf didn't hear them.

Owen looked at me, clearly remembering the toilet incident if that frown was anything to go on, but instead of mentioning it he turned his attention to Assan, "anybody want to explain why the elf turned into Teaboy Jr.?"

"Suit up!" Assan shouted on explanation, adjusting his tie. Maker's breath, between Zevran and his zippers and Assan and his tie, I wasn't sure if the two elves would ever find time to do anything else.

I frowned, leaning against Fenris as I watched the Dalish. He looked, and acted, so harmless, that it was hard to pair him with the elf I had first met. I wondered if I was like that, if I seemed harmless outside of battle, too.

Assan's met mine, as if he had felt my eyes on him. Perhaps he had.

He held my gaze for a long moment before smirking, and I caught a glimpse of that elf again. That hawk-like calculating look appeared in his eyes. I remembered something my mother had told me once; she had said that the Dalish were like wolves. You might see them with each other, playing and acting and just seeming so much like dogs, but then you would see them bringing down their prey or going after something, and remember just how dangerous they are. For a moment, that wilderness seemed to be staring back at me through the eyes of that elf; a wolf, staring back at me, deadly and wild.

There he was. There was the elf I had met. There was the elf who had slaughtered countless mercenaries even with only having the use of one hand. There was the elf who led Ferelden against the Blight, hunted and against all odds. There was the elf who, just like me, had killed more than most people would ever meet. He made it easy to forget who he was, and he did it so easily, shifted so smoothly, that I wasn't even sure if it was on purpose.

And then that goofy smile was back on his face and he was turning his attention the people of this odd world, once again adjusting his tie with a certain (calculated, even, perhaps) air of innocence, attention caught as he caught sight of Bannon and went off to reattempt to meet the elf. The moment had passed.

But it had done well to remind me just who Assan Mahariel was and just how little I actually knew the Warden-Commander.

(Okie-dokie, this chapter is more of a lead in to the next chapter. I had to rewrite it twice, though, considering the wi-fi went out right before I hit save the first time -_-' but I wrote it off the draft of the chapter I already had, so not too much was lost, I suppose.)


	8. Chapter 8

(I don't own Dragon Age or Torchwood or Bloodsong 13T's work.)

-Assan-

I took one look at the 'pizza' and couldn't help being excited, "halla squares!"

I scooped up a piece and bit into it, closing my eyes in bliss. It wasn't as good as the halla squares I was used to, and it was shaped like a triangle, but it was still good.

"Halla squares?"

"Great mother of the halla," I said, savoring the taste before scarfing down a couple more bites, "Zev! Ma vhenan! Halla squares!"

My Zevran perked up and hurried over.

"Here's a pizza for Assan and Zevran," Jack handed us the box, "one for Bannon and Zevran, and one for Marian and Fenris."

"Ha, I get two!"

"You know I meant Assan's Zevran."

"You have pizza where you come from?" Gwen asked us.

"Halla squares, old Dalish secret. A secret they keep quite well," my Zevran answered, since I was too busy stuffing my face, "how do you lot have it?"

"Don't know, pizza's been around forever," Owen shrugged, "how do the Dalish have it?"

"We can only eat it during Arlathvhen, which happens every ten years or so so we can group up and the Keepers and Firsts share information and newly uncovered lore," I explained, remembering Jack saying he wanted to learn more about the Dalish, "it's the only time we can make halla squares, but we have to be very careful because if humans found us during Arlathvhen they could wipe us all out."

"Would they really do that?" Jack plopped down with a slice of his own.

"Of course they would!" I said, "that's what Nikalle always says..." I frowned, the happiness I had been feeling since getting the 'pizza' quickly fading, "well, said."

"Nikalle?"

"He..." I stared at my pizza slice before scarfing it down and grabbing another, "Ashalle and Nikalle raised me."

"The Dalish don't raise the kids they have?" Gwen asked, giving me a sad look as she sat down.

"When we went to get the help of the Dalish for the Blight it seemed like Dalish parents took care of their own kids," Bannon spoke up, though he was too busy staring at my dog to look at me. He didn't like mabaris. Possibly a Fen'Harel agent, then, or 'allergic,' I'd have to keep an eye on that one.

"That's because Dalish parents do take care of their own kids, with the help of the rest of the clan," my Zevran said, "I remember that much from when I ran away to join that Dalish clan in Antiva."

"You ran away from the Crows to join the Dalish?" Warden Zevran turned a look of wide-eyed shock on his counterpart.

"Didn't you?"

"No! That would have been stupid!"

"Well, it was too much work anyways," my Zevran shrugged nonchalantly, "I went back."

"Huh, and yet they didn't kill you for running off? " Warden Zevran frowned, as if trying to imagine it, "so it seems that our Wardens are not the only differences between your world and ours. You know, beside me being a Warden."

"So why did this Nikalle and Ashalle raise you?" Gwen asked me.

"Ah," I frowned and scarfed down my second piece of pizza and grabbed a third. Zevran was on his second, but he seemed like he was stopping there, unlike Warden Zevran who was scarfing down his third already and moving on for a fourth. Bannon and his Zevran were tearing down that pizza rather quickly, "well... shems. It's quite dramatic, I suppose, and kind of cheesy. Haha, cheesy. Get it? Cause we're eating- okay, nevermind."

I awkwardly took a bite of my third piece, hating being the center of attention.

"Well, my father was the Keeper, and he fell in love with a city elf."

"A city elf?" Bannon perked up immediately.

"Yes," I took another bite of my pizza, feeling a bit self-conscious, "one day they were out, away from the clan, doing who the hell knows what."

I took another bite of my pizza with a bit more ferocity than was needed. I hadn't realized that I was still bitter about the whole thing with my father and mother until I was here, telling these strangers something like this, but it felt good to say it, even though it hurt.

"So what happened?" Owen pressed, glancing up from his pizza slice, "you can't just start a story like that and leave us hanging, now can you?"

"Shems found them. They killed my father and severely wounded my mother. She lived just long enough for the healers to get me out of her, and then her grieving ass abandoned her child to go die in the woods. I got to spend my life with only Tamlen and Merrill willing to be friends with the kid who was half flat-ear."

Bannon's face immediately went sour the second I said flat-ear. Hmm. Touchy. I'd have to keep that in mind.

"Does it really matter?" I scowled, "he's dead, she's dead, and I never got to prove that I was Dalish enough. Not the first Dalish tragedy to come along."

There were too many tragedies amongst the Dalish. Surely, mine paled in comparison.

"That's... terrible."

"Perhaps," I said, "though there are worse shems out there than those who would attack a pregnant elf."

"Tell me about it," Bannon grumbled.

Barkspawn let out a soft whoof and laid his head in my lap, looking up at me with those large brown eyes. 'Don't be sad', he seemed to say. I smiled and gave him a slice of pizza; Bird wandered over the moment he saw I was handing out food, and I gave him a slice, too, "but... there's good shems out there too."

"A Dalish saying there's such a thing as a good shem? Am I asleep?"

I rolled my eyes at Bannon, "not all Dalish hate shems with a burning passion. I know the Lavellan clan often trades with them."

"Lavellan?" my Zevran grinned and nudged me with his elbow, "that's the one with Elgara, isn't it?"

My face flushed, "shut up, Zev."

"Awww, but what about Ilios? I told you we should have brought him with us!"

"We can't just take a clan's First, Zev!" I gasped at him, "I told you that!"

"But he was adorable!"

I grinned at the memory of Ilios, "he was, wasn't he? But do you really think Elgara would have let him go with us?"

"She could have come to!"

"But then she wouldn't want to share, and you'd end up a third wheel."

"Ah, but then I would get to spirit you away for romps in the woods when she wasn't looking! Surely it would be my duty to ravish you at every opportunity!"

I laughed and kissed him before grabbing another slice of pizza, "oh! That reminds me! Hawke, my clan was near Kirkwall while you were there, weren't they? How is everyone?"

"Oh, uh, they're doing good," she said before stuffing half a slice of pizza into her mouth.

"That's great! How is Marethari doing? She was always so kind."

Hawke looked down at her pizza slice, "oh, uh, Marethari is..."

"Is.. she all right?" I paused, trying not to look as worried as I felt.

Hawke cast me a blinding grin, "you needn't worry, Assan. Your clan is fine."

"Alright," I gave the odd woman a look before scarfing down my pizza slice. No need to scare the hell out of me, then, was there?

"So how did you join the Wardens?" Bannon spoke up. The Alternate Hero was actually starting a conversation with me? Perhaps I was the one asleep!

I shuddered at the memory, "my friend, Tamlen, and I had caught a couple shems near camp. They told us about a cave with supposedly elven artifacts so that we would let them go. The cave was full of Darkspawn. We found a mirror, in there, after killing our way through all the Darkspawn, and... the mirror was a tainted eluvian. Tamlen.. Tamlen touched it. Duncan found me wandering around in the forest, tainted and half-mad, and took me back to my clan. The Healers managed to fix me up some and I tried to go back for Tamlen, but I couldn't find him. Duncan had to drag me out of there, kicking and screaming. He and Marethari decided that becoming a Grey Warden was the only thing that could save my life from the Taint."

"Alistair says Assan was still screaming and trying to get away when Duncan dragged him in," Zev spoke up, "he wasn't happy about being conscripted at all."

"Conscripted? I was conscripted too," Bannon said, "did Alistair become king in your world?"

I let out a dry laugh and cast the empty pizza box a sad glance, "yes. He wasn't very happy with me. I couldn't bring myself to kill Loghain, when it came down to it, and Alistair stepped forward, accepted the crown, and then did it himself. It ruined the plan of marrying him to Anora. Did he become king in yours?"

Bannon smirked, "he did. Wasn't too happy either. Did you find Shale?"

"Yes!" I laughed at the memory of the golem, "after we tricked and killed the demon and got the guy's daughter back to him, he told us the words and we managed to get her moving again."

"Did she kill that chicken outside the town?"

"Ha, yes!"

"I thought she was about to trample us!"

"We thought the same!" I laughed at the memory, "and then when we looked back, she just shrugged!"

Bannon and I both laughed, sharing the similar memory.

"You know, I gave her a pet rock."

"You didn't."

"I did," I grinned, "I named it Pidgeon. She loved that little rock."

"Really? And you didn't get crushed?"

"Didn't get crushed. What about Sten?"

"Sten? I liked his horns, I suppose. Wasn't very talkative, when he wasn't complaining about everything."

"Your Sten had horns!?"

"Yours didn't!?"

"No! Did yours give you piggy back rides?"

"He gave you piggy back rides!?"

"Occasionally, though it was usually when he was drunk and thought I was a Qunari child wearing vitaar," I grinned, "did yours like cookies?"

"He took cookies from a kid, once."

"Mine did too."

Bannon and I both cracked up, remembering old friends. It left me longing to see them again, after all this time. I couldn't help but wonder when the last time Bannon saw them was, and wondered just how much our worlds differed.

"What about Haven?" I asked, "did you see the so called arisen Andraste?"

"Yes! We rolled down an egg on our way out and she ate all her followers."

"What!?" my Zevran cried out, "how did you get into the mountain without facing the dragon?"

"She was asleep."

I let out a nervous chuckle and shifted in my seat when Zev turned a suspicious look on me.

"I'm guessing the dragon was asleep for us, too?" Zev crossed his arms.

"Maybe," I shrugged innocently, "but.. but the gong was right there! You can't expect to put a dragon in front of me and not expect me to want to fight it!"

"A gong?"

"There was a huge gong, you know, that big bell thing only it's like a disk, and I took the stick and I hit it!" I grinned, "woke her right up. Then we killed her."

"No, Barkspawn killed her," Zevran corrected me, "if I recall correctly, the rest of us were either unconscious or couldn't move until everybody else caught up. You were bleeding out and would have died if Wynne hadn't saved you."

"Ah, just like when we killed Flemeth. Good times. Sometimes I can still taste her swamp from when she slammed me facefirst into it."

* * *

-Marian-

Assan and Bannon seemed to finally be talking to each other, despite Bannon's apparent hatred of dogs, and both Zevrans were chiming into the conversation while the Otherworlders listened in with mixed expressions. All in all, it seemed the four were all getting along with each other, though the hushed conversation the Zevrans were having with each other seemed to be getting heated.

"Only half Dalish," Fenris said, "I hadn't been expecting that."

"No?" I pulled off the red meat chunks on my slice of pizza and tossed it to Bird, who was more than happy to eat it, "Assan and Bannon seem to be hitting it off easily enough."

"This is the first time they've talked," Fenris shrugged, "Bannon doesn't seem one to trust easily, so I wouldn't keep my hopes up."

"Like you? Assan has a way of worming his way into people's good graces quickly enough."

"Hmph," Fenris huffed before giving me a small smile, "reminds me of you."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Well-"

There were several startled shouts and a loud thud as the two Zevrans went down pounding on each other. Warden Zevran got in a rather painful looking jab to Zev's gut, and Zev slammed his knee up into the other Zevran's groin with all he was worth; Warden Zevran barely avoided the shot in time, though his face paled a couple shades as the hit jammed right up into his gut instead.

"I take it back, they aren't getting along at all," I groaned, annoyed, "they're pretty much the same person! How do you not get along with yourself?"

"Would you get along with yourself?"

"Touché."

"Whoa, hey! Hey!" Jack and Owen dove in, pulling the two elves apart. Owen didn't look too happy at being collateral damage, because the moment a loose elbow slammed the wind out of him, he started in on it too.

"Owen!" Jack snapped at his teammate, "I told you to help me break it up, not to join them!"

"They're not going to end this peacefully," Fenris observed.

I grabbed my staff from where I had left it leaning against a table and slammed the end of it into the floor with a resonating thud. All four men froze, trapped in a paralyzing glyph. Tosh snickered and took a bite of her pizza, but Gwen looked pained by the violence. Assan and Bannon both looked confused.

"Boys, boys, boys," I said, shaking my head sadly, "you're all pretty! And you were all getting along so well! Can I let you all go now?"

"I was just trying to help," Jack pointed out, and I gave him some points for not having resorted to his fists yet, "although this could be a handy trick in-"

Fenris growled.

"Nevermind."

I released them, smirking as they stumbled.

"My Warden is still better than yours!" Warden Zevran scowled.

"Ha! Mine runs circles around yours!"

"Really? That's what you two are arguing about?" Fenris scowled, "what does it matter who is better or not? There are more important things to discuss: like how we're getting home. Besides, Hawke is better than both of your Wardens combined."

"Awwww," I cooed, more as an afterthought than anything. It didn't seem like the two Zevrans had heard Fenris at all and I wondered how long they had been arguing.

"Zev, I'm not better than anybody!" Assan looked confused, "Fenris is right! This isn't something worth arguing about!"

"My Warden doesn't eat bugs!" Warden Zevran shouted back in response to Zev.

Assan's expression instantly turned sour, "where did you hear that?"

"Assan killed Darkspawn **before** he became a Warden!"

"Bannon can pickpocket! And he can pick locks! Yours can only pick locks!"

Zev spluttered. Apparently pickpocketing was not a skill Assan had.

"Well, **my** Warden gave me a Fen'Harel favor for my birthday," Zev beamed, as if this was a thing that won this stupid argument hands down, "does your Warden do Fen'Harel favors? No? I bet he doesn't even know what it is! I bet **you** don't even know what that is!"

Assan had gone very, very red; I figured a Fen'Harel favor wasn't something somebody would mention around children, whatever it was.

"Zevran!" Assan shrieked, going red all the way to his ears.

"What is a Fen'Harel favor?" Bannon looked over at the beet-red Dalish.

"Mine doesn't even need this- this Fen'Harel trick!" Warden Zevran spluttered back, not looking very happy to be out of the loop on what a Fen'Harel favor was.

"Why!? Because you taught him all of his tricks!? Well, **mine** already had experience so ha!"

The sound of something metal hitting the floor silenced both Zevrans immediately. Assan had ripped the one earring he had had from his ear without even unhooking it, blood dripping from where it had been and a jagged slash now through his ear; he'd thrown the earring straight at the ground, and his Zevran went very, very pale, probably thinking back on what he had said. I couldn't help wondering what it had been. Was it the bugs? The favor? Or maybe the 'prior experience' Zev had been talking about?

"Mi amor?"

The little elf was shaking. Trembling. I summoned up my spirit healer aura and healed everyone, but Assan barely noticed that the jagged slash from ripping the earring the long way through his ear was gone and Owen, Jack, and both Zevrans barely seemed to notice that their wounds from the fistfight were gone.

"I wasn't talking about- I wasn't-" Zevran scooped up the earring, knuckles white around it, "Assan, I swear I wasn't-"

"Then what were you talking about, Zevran?" Assan asked, and though his body was shaking his voice was unnervingly steady and Barkspawn almost seemed to be judging the situation, casting a stern look towards Zevran. The wolf was back in Assan, in the way his eyes fluttered from Zev and around the room, judging his exits, and the way he had gone from seeming completely harmless to screaming deadly in the span of a moment.

"I-" Zev looked lost, clinging to the earring in his hand, "mi amor- Assan-"

Assan leaped the railing and stormed through to the door, roughly shoving both Zevrans out of his way. Gwen and Tosh barely leaped out of the elf's path before he had passed them; Barkspawn followed him like a shadow, casting a look over his furry shoulder and narrowing his eyes at the Zevrans before bumping against Assan's legs, a silent 'I'm here' as the two made to leave.

Zev moved to follow but Assan spun and glared at his Zevran.

"Not you!" he spat before spinning on his heel and disappearing past the dwarven door.

Zev cursed, and even though he looked like he was doing his best to keep it together, he was utterly failing and his voice cracked, "you don't happen to have a spare bed?"

Fenris cast the elf a scowl, "well, you're most definetly not sharing with us!"

"Is he all right?" Gwen asked, glancing the way the elf had gone, "he... somebody should go after him. To make sure he's all right, at least."

Bird sat up from where he was laying near my feet and shoved his head into Fenris' legs. Fenris stumbled and glared at the mabari, "what?"

Bird let out a low whoof and turned his head to stare in the direction that Assan and Barkspawn had gone.

"You want to go, you go," Fenris scowled, "I barely know the elf."

Bird whined.

"I can go," I offered, "he'll want somebody from our world, at least."

Bird turned his big brown eyes on me and whined again before looking back to Fenris.

"Mabari knows best," I offered my best attempt at a grin, even though Zev had collapsed against a desk, staring at the bloody earring in his hands, "Bird thinks you should go."

"Fine," Fenris growled, "but I'll only manage to make it worse, you know that, don't you?"

Bird let out a low whoof.

Fenris stalked out of the room, leaving it in an awkward silence in the wake of the Warden argument and Assan's reaction. After a moment, Bannon and his Zevran crouched down near Assan's Zevran, speaking in hushed tones. The room felt dark, and sad, and empty.

It reminded me of the silence that had followed between the Hawkes after- after we had lost father. Reminded me of the silence after we lost Bethany. After Carver had to join the Wardens because I hadn't managed to protect him. It reminded me of how quiet the mansion had seemed after I lost mother, when Orana and Sandal and Bodahn didn't know what to do to get me to leave my room.

"Well!" I clapped my hands together, startling them all out of their silence, "who wants to learn Wicked Grace?"


	9. Chapter 9

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's works. I suppose this ended up being an AU of the Dragon Age series, since I believe earlier I put that it was seven years instead of the canon ten since the Archdemon. Yes, I know, this is my shortest chapter ever, but the next one is super duper long to make up for it, okay? Good. Go on, then.)

-Assan-

"Bit dramatic, don't you think?"

I growled and wiped hurriedly at my eyes, "what do you want, Fenris?"

He opened the door of the closet and looked down at me, eyebrow quirking up at the sight of Barkspawn and I huddled amongst the clothes.

"Whose room is this?"

"I don't know. It was the first one I came across," I sniffed, not wanting to admit that I didn't feel like I could make it farther, "look, I know I overreacted. I'll apologize to Zev later."

"The question is why you overreacted."

"The question is why you don't just buzz off," I scowled, curling up farther into the corner. Barkspawn let out a low whine.

"Hawke's mabari seems to think I'd manage to be helpful."

I shrugged, "look, I'm just not at the top of my game. I'm tired, I'm in a world entirely different from my own, and I-" I cut myself off and shook my head, "I'm just not at the top of my game, okay? I know he didn't mean- now that I've had time to calm down- whatever. Just go on, Fenris."

He sighed and walked into the closet, stepping over a jacket covered with zippers.

"I suppose you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Hmph, me neither," Fenris grunted.

Barkspawn growled.

"I suppose Barkspawn seems to think we should talk about it," Fenris said, glancing at the mabari before his eyes moved to mine, "of the mabaris thinks it will help for you to talk to me, perhaps it will."

"Where should I start?"

* * *

-Marian-

Bannon and both Zevrans proved worthy adversaries. Not at playing Wicked Grace. At cheating at Wicked Grace. All three were quite adept at cheating. Unfortunately for them, I was better, and Assan's Zevran wasn't putting up much of a fight anyways.

"Alright, at least we have the decency to hide that we're cheating," Bannon scowled, "I literally saw you just make that card float out of the deck and over to you."

"Can I have my shoes back?"

"No, now shush," I told the Otherworlder, "I'm starting the next round."

"I hate this game."

"This is stupid," Owen said, staring at my nice little pile of shoes, "you're not supposed to cheat at cards or you're out. If you get caught at least. And everybody has caught you cheating!"

"Prove it."

"What!?"

"You prove I'm cheating and you'll get your shoes back."

* * *

I walked through the castle doors, looking out from beneath the hood of my cloak as I glanced around the inside of the large castle. A man, the king, made his appearance, friendly smile on his face as he approached me. I nodded to my friends and they melted away to let me talk to the king in private as he led me towards his office.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Inquisitor," the king of Ferelden greeted me, taking the hand I offered without a second guess, "I know it mustn't be easy, stopping in your pursuit of Corypheus just to help me."

"No worries, Your Majesty," I smiled, "it just so happens that the Inquisition could use the help of the missing Warden and Champion. Well, that was my excuse to convince my advisors to let me come. Leliana and I were more than eager to help, and Varric is quite vocal when it comes to helping Hawke. Besides, Morrigan seemed like she was going to turn everybody into frogs otherwise, so that made it easier to convince them."

"Please, call me Alistair," King Alistair smiled, before stepping back into his office and waving me in, "sorry about the mess. Usually Assan helped me keep it ordered, but.. well.."

I patted the human's shoulder, "the Inquisition will find the Hero of Ferelden, my king, I give you my word. There is no where they can be lost where we will not find them and bring them home safe. Besides, this is the Hero of Ferelden we are talking about, yeah?"

"Yeah," the king gave a small smile, tension easing only slightly from his shoulders, "yes, I suppose you're right."

I pulled my hood down and grinned at the look of shock on his face.

"Morrigan was pretty surprised, too, and I promise that all will be explained, but there are more urgent matters at hand," I told him, "now where was the last known location of Assan Mahariel and Marian Hawke?"


	10. Chapter 10

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age or Bloodsong 13T's works. Trigger warning for this chapter.)

-Assan-

"How about the beginning?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. This... I've rarely, if ever, spoken about this before. It never got any easier. I opened my eyes.

"What I'm about to tell you... you have to promise that it stays between us."

The other elf took in my serious expression for a moment before nodding, "I promise."

I took a deep breath before allowing myself to remember.

* * *

 _Nikalle and I moved through the forest like ghosts, swift and silent, following the trail of blood with heavy hearts. We did not expect to find the halla alive._

 _We heard racous laughter ahead, and a halla's terrified and pained bleats for help. Nikalle and I both shared a look, but I obviously misread what I figured it meant; I slipped my bow from my shoulder and reached smoothly for an arrow, but Nikalle grabbed my wrist. I turned and gave him a dirty look as I roughly jerked my head towards the direction of the halla._

 _Nikalle shook his head and nodded back the way we had come. He began to slip back into the forest, expecting me to follow; I didn't._

 _I came close to doing as I was supposed to, but the halla cried out again, a desperate scream of pain and terror, a plea for help that I couldn't find it within me to ignore._

 _I grit my teeth and whipped back around, moving forward without hesitation. Nikalle's breath caught in his throat as he noticed, but he dared not give away our location with a yell.; he lunged to catch me, but I was already out of reach._

 _There was a whole goup of shems and my breath caught in awe at the sight of them. Here was my childhood stories brought to life before me as I saw shems, actual shems, for the first time in all my sixteen summers._

 _These were the monsters that took everything from us? These things were the reason we have no choice but to spend our whole lives running from place to place? They didn't look like much._

 _Their ears looked very weird, and the shems looked kind of chubby from my vantage point. Every elf I had ever met was smaller and slimmer than these hulking creatures_. _They even had hair on their faces, not just their head!_

 _Even worse, they were tormenting my favorite halla, which automatically made me hate them. They may be my childhood stories come to life, but it felt less like meeting a unicorn and more like coming face to face with a troll's behind, if you ask me._

 _But I was nothing if not an elf willing to give people a chance. Maybe they just didn't understand the harm they were causing, like a child stepping on an anthill._

 _I put my bow away and stepped into the clearing, hands raised_ _in peace. Hopefully I could settle this without violence and keep my clan from being put at risk; I bit down the vengeance and rage that burned in my heart at the sight of the halla's snow colored pelt streaked with blood._

 _The laughter immediately ceased as the shems spotted me. The halla didn't hesitate to take the opportunity to break free from where they had her cornered and she limped as quickly as she could back to the safety of the trees. I hoped she'd find her way back to the hallakeeper safely, where she could be helped._

 _"What's an elf doing with weapons?" one of the shem sneered at me, "and so far from the alienage, too? Wat'cha say, m'lord? Teach the little elf a lesson and drag him back?"_

 _The shem he had looked to, the one with the most expensive looking clothes, looked me over, a smile growing on his face; I felt like a rabbit being examined by a fox, "now, now, Walter, I'm sure I could possibly be... convinced... by this pretty little elf that he has a good reason to be out here."_

 _"Peace, humans," Nikalle stepped forward from the shadows of the treestrees, holding his hands up to show that he was unarmed. He positioned himself between me and the shems, quickly pulling me behind him as he watched the lead shem carefully, "we are simply passing through these lands."_

 _"Oh!" the lead shem's entire face seemed to light up, "Dalish elves!"_

 _"Yes," Nikalle nodded respectfully and I almost bristled. Respect!? To a halla abusing shem!? I had been ready to protect my clan by remaining peaceful and patient, but to deem so low as to act like you had even any scrap of respect for them!?_

 _"Looks like we've caught ourselves some savages, boys!" the lead shem said cheerfully, raising his arms to the other shems, and they eeulted into mocking laughter and whoops. Nikalle had tensed and I prepared for a fight. There were eight in all. Could Nikalle and I take eight armed and armored shem?_

 _"Assan," Nikalle said, voice low, scratching at his wrist almost absently so that they wouldn't notice it was a move to get his hand close to his dagger, "Assan, I want you to turn around and run. As fast as you can. Don't eveb look back. Just run."_

 _"You can't take eight shem at once," I hissed back, "they'll kill you."_

 _"Assan," Nikalle met my eyes only once before looking back towards the shems, "you must warn the clan. Immediately. Tell them that we need to leave as soon as we can. Warning them is the only thing that matters."_

 _In that moment, I swear Nikalle looked as if he had all the courage and power of Shartan._

 _"Now, Assan!" Nikalle snarled; in the blink of an eye he had slashed out the throat of the nearest shem and gutted a second before the first had even fallen, "run, da'len!"_

 _He did not give me time for hesitation. I turned and took off as fast as my feet could take me; behind me, the lead shem whistled and the sound of dogs barking and howling filled the air as the hunting dogs gave chase. I could hear them tearing through the foliage after me, filling the forest with their noise, and I knew I couldn't lead them to the others._

 _I turned and leaped upon the nearest tree, scaling it and leaping to the nearest branch of the next tree and then on again to the next, flitting through the trees like a squirrel. Below, the hounds fought each other as they scrambled to keep track of me. Behind them, the shems were yelling and shouting at each other as they started after the trails the mabaris left behind, and I prayed to any Creator that was listening that Nikalle was okay._

 _Nikalle was the closest thing to a dad that I have ever had, and if he was dead because of me..._

 _I misjudged the next branch and it snapped beneath my weight. I plummeted with a yelp of surprise that was echoed by whatever had just cushioned my fall._

 _I gasped and scrambled off the shem I had fallen on, and he quickly put his hands up in surrender, looking baffled as he pulled himself up into a sitting position and shaking the dead leaves from his hair. He was smaller and slimmer than the other shems I had seen, his face not even carrying the faintest hint of stubble. I half expected him to be an elf, if I hadn't had a glimpse of his rounded ears._

 _"Hi," the teen blinked, staring at me as if Andraste herself had been the one to just fall on him, "you-uh, you just fell from the sky."_

 _"Tree," I corrected stupidly, not knowing what else to say._

 _"Oh, that- that makes a lot more sense," the boy said, brushing his hand through the unruly mop of black hair on his head to shake free the last few leaves and bits of dirt. His hair wasn't too long, just barely curling at the height of his chin._

 _I stared at him for a moment, but the hounds were catching up. He heard them too and quickly brushed a couple loose strands of his jet black hair behind his oddly shaped ears as he leapt to his feet, letting out a soft whistle that barely reached the trees. A tiny little form waddled hurriedly over from where it had been sniffing at a bush, and he scooped it up in spite of the little sniff it gave in complaint. I leaned forward to get a better look. It was a mabari pup, brown and very small, barely larger than a young raccoon._

 _"What's going on?" the young shem frowned, clutching the small puppy in one arm as he glanced in the direction the barking and baying was coming from. The hounds were too close to escape from, not that I had much of a chance in the first place._

 _"Sh-shems!" I trembled even still, "they- the shems!"_

 _"Details, I need details," the kid prodded. He didn't look much older than me, maybe only a summer or two more, and he didn't look very formidable holding a cute little puppy that kept trying to lick his face; the sword on the shem's back looked very sharp, and his armor looked very well made, but I doubted he'd be able to fend off all the bigger adults even with my help. I was a hunter, not a fighter! I was trained to go up against whatever we might come across on the road. Anything other than a human. That was for the warriors, with their heavier armor and their swords._

 _"They killed Nikalle!" I cried out, "and now- now they're coming for me!"_

 _It seemed I had earned myself an ally, by the way he handed his mabari pup to me and pulled free his sword with an ominous sound of metal scraping against metal. The hunting dogs had caught up, and they leaped into view like charging bulls only to skid to a stop at the sight of the shem. They'd been set on an elf, not a shem, and now they were confused as to what to do._

 _"Run," the young shem told me, "this is my fight. You and Barkspawn get somewhere safe."_

 _"They made it my fight," I growled, unwilling to have to run and leave someone to die. Not again. Never again. "They hurt my halla, and they hurt Nikalle. I'm going to make them pay."_

 _The young shem nodded, "fine. We face them together, then. I'm... I'm Graves."_

 _"Assan."_

 _Graves smiled and nodded, "well met, Assan."_

 _Well met? Had I just heard him right? Well met, says the shem to the elf?_

 _But there was no time for me to question the odd shem, as the adult shems had caught up and I clung to the young mabari pup, Barkspawn, who squirmed in my arms and tried to lick my face._

 _"Bann Hyder," the young shem greeted curtly as the lead shem caught up with his hounds, "fancy meeting you here, m'asshole."_

 _Hyder's face twisted into a grin, twisted by the gash now slashed across his face; his eyes flickered between Graves and I, "ah, Graves Cousland. Is this your little bitch, then? You should keep your dogs on a tighter leash."_

 _Graves narrowed his eyes, so obviously bitch must be a bad word, though I had never heard it before except in regards to a female canine. But Barkspawn was male, and none of the other mabaris here belonged to Graves._

 _Graves didn't look afraid, even though I could hear his heart beating quicker than a frightened rabbit's in the claws of a hawk; he was terrified, and his grip tightened on his sword as two more shems stepped followed Hyder into view. There were three of them, then, and I felt a burst of pride at Nikalle's abilities before it was overcome by a staggering sense of grief._

 _"What are you going to do, little Cousland?" Hyder tilted his head, "little teen pretending to be a man? What do you think you're going to do?"_

 _"You'll be singing a different tune when I cut off your family jewels," Graves scowled, "does the name Ashanti ring any bells? She was an elven servant girl. You raped, beat, and killed her. She was my friend, and Uriel may have turned a blind eye just as he does for his son, just because they're elves, but the Couslands wil not."_

 _"Really?" Hyder spread his arms out and gestured to the world around us, "because the only Cousland I see is Bryce's hot-headed brat!"_

 _"A pretty little brat that could be worth something, m'lord," Walter spoke up, and damnit I had hoped he had been one of the ones to die on Nikalle's blade._

 _Hyder rubbed his chin, staring at Graves and I, "why, yes. That is true, isn't it? Hide his ears, dirty up his face, it would be easy to sneak him home. Any visitors would assume he was an elf! Oh, the fun we could have!"_

 _"Worth the lives of your friends? Because I'm not going to leave until I've killed every single one of you. But not you, Hyder. You'll get to live the rest of your life as a eunuch... only without the dangly bit, too," Graves growled, and I clung to little Barkspawn as the threat was met with a laugh by Hyder._

 _Hyder stuck two fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistles that startled the birds from the trees. Two more shems broke through the foliage, making four survivors in all, and they dragged a form between them that fought even still. Hyder nodded and one of the shem's jerked the bloody figure's head up, pressing a dagger to the figure's throat._

 _"Nikalle!" I almost dropped the dog at the sight of him, alive. He was bloodied and bruised, but he lifted exhausted, fight-filled eyes to meet mine. I almost cried in relief at seeing him alive._

 _"Drop your sword, turn around," Hyder ordered us both, "failure to listen will result in this savage's death."_

 _I didn't expect Graves to drop his sword, not for a couple of Dalish elves. Everything I had ever known about them told me he wouldn't. But he did. He dropped his sword and turned around, grumbling curses as he allowed Hyder's buddies to wrestle him roughly to the ground and bind his hands._

 _"Gonna kill us all, Cousland, are ya?" one of the shems spat before driving their foot right into Graves' gut. The young shem's face twisted, but he grit his teeth and didn't cry out._

 _"You, too, elf."_

 _"Assann, no," Nikalle growled, "it's alright, da'len. Run."_

 _The shem holding the dagger growled and pushed the dagger harder against Nikalle's throat, but Nikalle didn't even wince. Nikalle glared at the shem, defiant even now._

 _I put the mabari down, much to its annoyance, and turned around. The shems wasted no time in shoving me to the ground and yanking the rope tightly across my wrists behind my back._

 _Once Graves and I were securely bound and they had wrestled a growling Barkspawn into a bag, Hyder nodded towards his buddy, "kill the knife-ear."_

 _"NO!" I struggled, and the shems hurried to hold me down, grunting with exertion at my almost feral attempts to get free. Warm blood was already trickling down my wrists, but I didn't stop tugging, trying to free myself, to save Nikalle, "NO! NIKALLE! PAPA!"_

 _The shem killed him. I couldn't see it, but I heard the wet sound of it driving through his neck, heard the spatter of his blood hit the leaves, heard the shem let his body fall with a limp thud. I stammered out a quick prayer for him, barely able to see through my tears as I sobbed._

 _Graves spit and cursed and threatened and screamed, but it was too late. We were trapped, the two of us, and at the mercy of the dishonourable, halla-abusing noble._

 _You brats honestly thought I'd let that savage live? I love Tame the Savage, sure, but that thing killed four of my men!" Hyder snarled, but his anger turned to laughter so quickly that it terrified me, "they honestly thought I'd let them live!"_

 _The other shems gave nervous chuckles. They were scared of him, too, too scared to speak up against what Hyder had just done._

 _"You know, this leaves me with quite the hankering for a round of Tame the Savage," Hyder said, but I couldn't see him from where I was pinned, "and here I've got two savages to choose from! You love the little knife-ears so much, little Cousland? Well, as far as I'm concerned, you can consider yourself an honorary knife-ear savage in my eyes! Eunuch, huh?What was that part about making me a eunuch, boy!?"_

 _I heard him kick Graves, a lot harder than the other shem had, but Graves only returned the attack with an attack of words._

 _I heard the sound of a belt buckle being done, and suddenly Graves went deathly silent for a moment before shouting again, louder than before. Panic edged his words, loud and frantic as he cursed Hyder's entire line to hell._

 _"What about you, little Cousland? Want to play 'Tame the Savage' first? Or how about you, little elf? Hmmm? Don't worry, you'll both get a turn."_

 _I closed my eyes and blocked out the world. I prayed._

 _I prayed as Graves went from snarling and furious to sobbing and humiliated._

 _I prayed when it was my turn._

 _I prayed._

 _Not a single Creator answered._

* * *

"He..." Fenris frowned, "but.. you said Graves was a Cousland, a family held in such high regard that I hear they were once even offered the throne."

"It didn't seem to matter to Bann Hyder," I said, gaze focused on Barkspawn. The mabari whined and looked up at me, those brown eyes sad. Did he remember it, too? I wondered how much he remembered, and I wondered how much he understood, "Hyder had us for a month. I spent the first week so closed up in my own head I barely understood what was happening around me, but I snapped out of it when Graves started having night terrors. We took care of each other in there. Lethallin. Binded through our experiences, tied together from only having each other to count on. Just me and Graves, the tw-"

Barkspawn let out a bark of disagreement.

I smiled softly and petted the mabari's soft head, "yes, yes, and you, too, Barkspawn."

"And the entire time you were trapped there..."

"Hyder played Tame the Savage a lot, yeah. I was a bit bitter during the second week, I remember, because I thought it was only me, but it turned out Graves was just being left alone because Hyder had beat him badly enough during the first week that he got internal bleeding. After a mage was brought in and healed him, Hyder started making him play his twisted game, too. I felt terrible for ever being bitter at all."

"You know it wasn't a game, right? No matter how twisted of a mind he had to call it such-"

"Yeah, Fenris. It was rape. I know what it was," I said, looking away from the other elf, "he raped us, okay? You don't need to get all squeamish after I've poured out my guts, Fenris. You wanted to know, and now I've told you."

"The Couslands saved you both? Got you out, then?"

"No," I shook my head, "they didn't even know Hyder had us. There was this one time... Creators, this one time they were right outside the door of where we were kept, but Hyder had taken Barkspawn that morning and promised he'd feed the mabari to us if we made so much as a single peep. We heard them talking to Hyder, begging for his assistance in finding their beloved son, and we heard him promise to do everything in his power to help. He was a good actor. The Couslands were crying, we could hear them, and once they'd left, Graves cried, too. Hyder laughed for a long time after they left, but we got Barkspawn back."

"You two stayed silent? When freedom was right there in front of you?"

"What could we do? The Couslands thought Hyder was an ally and so they were outnumbered in that castle, and we had no doubt Hyder would keep his promise to us about feeding Barkspawn to us. The three of us were all we had. Me, Graves, and Barkspawn. We weren't about to give him up, give any of us up to death, even if the Maker himself had demanded it."

"Then... how did you escape?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before finding the strength to speak, "it was Hyder's birthday. He had a huge party, and afterwards he...celebrated. Except, instead of locking Graves and I back up in the closet he had turned into our prison like he usually did, he fell asleep. Barkspawn brought us a key, and we used it to free ourselves. We ran off to find our way out, and Hyder's guards spotted us and they woke him up."

"He dragged you back?"

"I had grabbed a knife," I shook my head, "when we cut through the kitchen I grabbed the closest one as we ran through. Later on, when he opened the door of the cupboard we were hiding in, I... I pounced out and started stabbing him and didn't stop. Graves grabbed his sword and bottlenecked the guards through the doorway. I..I carried out Graves' eunuch threat, while Hyder was still breathing, and a little bit after that I killed him for good. Graves dragged me out of there, the two of us coated in blood, dripping with it. It's... not exactly an event I like to remember."

Fenris tapped his fingers against the ground, thinking about what I had said, "and afterwards?"

"The Couslands and our allies were furious, once we reached them and told them what had happened. Bann Hyder's family aren't even nobles, and a couple of the people living on Cousland lands even torched Hyder's castle. Graves was well liked."

"And so you went back to your clan, after that, then?"

"I stayed with the Couslands for the winter," I said, "but I left come spring when the Lavellan clan came through. I'm Dalish to the core, Fenris. The Couslands were some of the greatest people I've ever met, and they treated me like one of their own, like their very own son, but the call of the Creators beckoned me home. I lived with the Lavellan clan until I was nineteen summers. Had even settled down with a nice elven girl named Elgara, but things got... complicated.. when at the Arlathvhen I decided to return to my own clan when they arrived."

"Arlathvhen. That gathering the Dalish have every decade or so that you were talking about earlier."

"Yeah. It was hard leaving the Lavellan clan, but the Sabrae clan was where I belonged. The Sabrae clan was where Ashalle was, the closest thing I ever had to a mother. She was bonded with Nikalle, and I guess seeing me home again after so long was the closest she could get to family again. Tamlen and Merrill were there, still, too, my closest friends. But not as close a friend as Graves had been. I miss my lethallin even now."

"Speaking of Graves, I suppose you two met up again, considering the fact that you have Barkspawn."

Barkspawn let out a grieved whine and I shook my head, eyes burning.

"The spring I left after that winter was the last time I ever saw him," I admitted, "Arl Howe murdered the Couslands. All of them. I hear Graves slaughtered many of Howe's soldiers, but he was wounded and vastly outnumbered. He never even made it out of the castle."

Fenris frowned, "but- but Barkspawn?"

"All we know is that he got out somewhere, caught the Taint somewhere in the Wilds, and ended up being found and taken in by the forces at Ostagar, before everything went to hell. Long story short, I recognized him and he recognized me."

I trailed my fingers across the old scar that ran across the bridge of Barkspawn's muzzle.

"He got this trying to protect Graves and I, even though he was too small to do much of anything. It happened when Nikalle died, but we didn't notice until we realized he was bleeding after they threw him in with us in our cell."

Fenris trailed his fingers across the scar, "you said he caught the Taint?"

"Yeah. I found a flower in the Wilds that the kennelmaster was able to use to heal him. I thought he died at Ostagar, but he caught up with us afterwards and we've been buddies again ever since."

Fenris' face softened as he petted the mabari. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again, "I... was a slave in Tevinter."

"Yes, Varric's book mentioned that."

"Did it mentioned that Danarius used me like Hyder used you?"

"He... did?" I tried to imagine the deadly elf having to go through that and failed.

"It is.. unfortunately common for slaves in Tevinter," Fenris said softly, "but I killed Danarius, in the end. I'm not sure if I could have done it without Hawke."

"I don't think I would have ever even survived if not for Graves."

Barkspawn yawned and plopped himself over more comfortably, obviously very interested in our conversation. Fenris and I both chuckled at the mabari.

"Those scars that circle your wrists. They were from the chains, weren't they?"

"We are the Dalish and never again shall we submit," I echoed, "yeah, they are. After I snapped out of it, I started fighting again."

"And you've told Zevran then, all this about Hyder?"

"Yeah."

"And he **still** said that earlier?" Fenris grit his teeth and narrowed his eyes, lyrium brands lighting up along his skin.

"Zevran didn't exactly have a sparkling childhood, Fenris," I said, glancing at the elf that had just lit up the closet "few elves probably have. And, besides, he was probably talking about what happened at Lothering."

"You were at Lothering?" the brands on his skin went out, curiosity winning over anger, "wait, what happened in Lothering?"

"Well, uh, it's kind of a long story. A story I made the mistake of letting Morrigan tell Zevran. The story Morrigan never gets tired of talking about and the very same story that Alistair swears we never speak of again."

"Wait.. you slept with the king of Ferelden?"

"I- what!? No!?" I stuck out my tongue, "Alistair is my lethallin! A band of mercenaries was moving through, called themselves the Chargers. They had to stay on the outskirts because their leader made the Lothering folks nervous. He was a big Qunari called The Iron Bull. And that's all you get to hear of it!"

"A qunari? Tal-Vasoth?"

"No. Ben-Hassrath."

Fenris stared at me as if I had grown a second head, "Assan Mahariel, are you telling me that you slept with a qunari spy?"

"A very skilled qunari spy," I corrected, "except Alistair interrupted near the end and didn't get his normal coloring back for a week. A week of a beet red Alistair avoiding me and sputtering his words every time I tried to talk to him."

Fenris stiffled a chuckle.

"No. Do not even laugh about it."

He laughed. He laughed like it was the funniest thing that he had ever heard.

"You're exaggerating!" he wheezed, trying to regain control of himself, "there is no way he was red for a week!"

"You're right. It was an understatement. Even now, he still gets red every time somebody says qunari and Assan in the same sentence."

Fenris broke out into laughter and this time I joined him, the two of us laughing until our chests hurt and we couldn't laugh anymore. We calmed down, eventually, delving into a silence that was more comfortable between us than it had ever been before.

"You won, you know," Fenris said softly.

"What?"

"Hyder's cruel and twisted game. You won. He's dead, and you're not."

I smiled at the idea, "yeah. Yeah, I guess I did. But that means you won, too, Fenris. Danarius is dead, you're not. We won."

Fenris smiled, "yes, I... I suppose we did."'

"May they rot in Fen'Harel's clutches," I grinned.

"You can say that again," Fenris agreed, "I hope they bug the hell out of each other for the rest of time."

I laughed, content for the moment as I leaned my head against the closet wall, thinking back on the good memories Graves and I had shared: climbing trees in the Cousland courtyard before the snow rolled in, chasing each other through the halls with Barkspawn on our heels, stealing food from the kitchens between meals and eating so much Graves' mother yelled at us for spoiling our dinner. There were countless memories.

The winter spent at the Couslands' was one of the best times of my life, despite following one of of the worst months of my life. I hadn't even realized I had shoved the memories away to help push away the grief learning of the Couslands' demise had brought.

Even the Hyder memories didn't hurt as much as they used to.

"Thanks, Fenris."


	11. Chapter 11

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's work. Special edition chapter!)

-Barkspawn-

When I was young, my boy was the only thing that mattered to me. But then there was another boy, and then that boy was the only other thing that mattered to me. I had two boys, and I loved them with all my heart.

Then I lost one. He left, and I was left with only my other boy as the pointy eared one left. I remember I was sad, but I still had my other boy, and the people often do things I don't understand. People didn't make sense a lot of the time; they did things like leave, or not share their food with me, or not like dogs. That last one really doesn't make sense.

But then I lost my other boy, too, and then I had no boys. I was alone. Everything was gone, even my boy.

Until I found the boy I lost first, and then I had a boy again.

That is why I do not leave Assan's side, lest I lose the only boy I have left. He isn't as small as he used to be, but then again neither am I.

This small space, on the other hand, was pushing it. I could smell the Bannon boy's scent and that of the Warden-smelling Zevran on these clothes, and I did not like Bannon. He did not like dogs. I do not like to trust boys who do not like dogs. I had allowed Assan time to chatter with the Fenris elf, and now that it had worked in making him feel better, it was time to leave this closet.

I stood up and shoved the door open with my nose, letting myself out. I looked over my shoulder and let out a low whoof and Assan took the hint, climbing out of the space and squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light after being in the darkness for so long. Fenris followed and the two elves both stretched.

"I've been away from Hawke too long," Fenris decided, "one of the first rules we had back in Kirkwall was to not leave her alone for too long."

"Because of Templars?"

Fenris sighed, "I wish."

"Hmph," Assan yawned and patted my head as he passed by towards the door, already straightening out his suit and tie; I sneezed as his scent passed my nose and I pressed my side against him. I wondered if he would be able to sleep, if he tried, or if the nightmares that wake him would keep him from rest. I whined, and he patted my head again.

But no. Despite the fact that I could even smell his exhaustion, it was so strong, Assan went with Fenris back to the others instead of off to sleep. I made sure to scope the room out, bounding into the room a couple steps ahead of my boy. The others were rounded round a table, and when I entered Bird leaped up and came over to greet me. Our tails wagging, we sniffed each other before letting our attention turn to the people as the room delved into silence.

"Assan, I..." Zevran, Assan's Zevran, cleared his throat before standing up from the table. He'd lost his shirt, but the mage Hawke seemed to have it in the pile that sat beside her chair.

Assan shook his head, "bull?"

Zevran collapsed back down into his chair, relief flooding from him in waves, "bull."

Assan pulled up a chair beside the elf, but Zevran didn't try and offer the shiny thing to him.

Bird tilted his head, 'help?'

I wagged my tail, 'help.'

Satisfied, Bird got comfortable at Hawke's feet, enjoying the pieces of pizza the mage snuck to him. I sniffed around under the table, smart enough not to go near Bannon. I doubted the elf would appreciate it, and I was anything but a rude mabari. His scent was a little like Assan's, and I only dared enough to sniff at Bannon's feet when he was preoccupied with getting angry at Hawke, and recognized the underlay of a blood scent not too dissimilar from Assan's blood scent.

Well, they may be related but that didn't mean they were related enough for me to care. Bannon doesn't like me, and the two elves didn't seem to know their blood scent was close enough to the same to be related, so it wasn't really my place to figure out how to alert them to the fact, now was it? My first boy's family had been fond of family reunions, and I did not want to spend more time than I have to around a dog hater.

Satisfied with myself, I turned my attention away. I could practically smell the awkwardness between the people, but the mage was quick to break it.

"Want to play, Assan?"

"Me?"

I twitched an ear, glancing up at the table above me; no doubt, Assan had that puppy-like frown on his face this very moment.

"Yes, you! Bannon tried pretending he didn't know how to play, which was very clever, sure, but not enough of a challenge. I need better competition than these bozos."

"Hey!" the 'bozos' took offense.

"I'm not much of a challenge either, Hawke," Assan admitted, "last time I played I gave up and seduced my way into my opponent's pants."

"Me too, I helped!" his Zevran said excitedly, "not for lack of trying, Assan! You lost more rounds than anybody's even so much as suffered through against Isabela. What was it? Twenty rounds before we threesomed our way into getting you dual wielding lessons from Isabela?"

"Threesome?" Jack spoke up, on the edge of his seat as his attention caught, "what's this about a threesome?"

"Jack," Ianto grumbled. I huffed in agreement.

"Isabela?" Hawke's voice piped up, "oh! So **that's** what she meant when she put that emphasis on **met** when she told me she met the Hero of Ferelden!"

"Yeah, yeah," Owen grumbled, nearly kicking me as he leaned back in his seat, "how about we talk and play cards at the same time, yeah? I have shoes and a watch to win back."

"And I want my stopwatch back," Ianto huffed, squirming as Jack leaned his foot out under the table and rubbed his shoe against Ianto's leg. Oh! Zevran often played this game with Assan! I quickly army crawled forward and rolled over into position, allowing Jack to rub my belly instead. Free belly rub! Haha, sucker!

Bird crawled forward, joining me under the table, sniffing at Jack's idle foot, 'my turn.'

'I thought of it first,' I growled, turning my head towards the other mabari.

'Well, now I know about it,' Bird growled back, 'not fair. I helped your boy. You owe me.'

'You get to be in the presence of my boy. See? You've been rewarded!'

Bird bared his teeth. I gave him my biggest smile, pleased as can be.

'Hawke's presence is better than your boy's, therefore it trumps that, and so you still owe me,' Bird sniffed, glancing back at Hawke before looking back at me.

My smile quickly turned and I bared my teeth and let out a deep, grumbling growl. Bannon jumped and nearly whacked his head off the table peering under it, giving us both suspicious glares. Ianto, who was right next to me, peered under the table worriedly as well, smiling a little as he saw me stealing his leg rub to get a free belly rub. His head disappeared back up.

"What are you looking so happy about?" Jack asked a couple seconds later.

"Oh, nothing, sir," Ianto said casually, "nothing at all."

"Nothing?" Jack pouted, and rubbed his foot against my chest a little harder than before, "you sure?"

"Pawsitive," Ianto replied. Bannon raised his head back up from under the table, the scent of amusement flickering from him. I would have laughed if I could. Even Bird lost an edge of his anger, seeming to forget about the disagreement as he stared up at the bottom of the table.

Jack lifted his foot higher, "well, how about- what the?"

He'd lifted his foot too high and had missed me all together, and he peered under the table, frowning at me.

"And what are you doing?"

I gave him a big happy dog grin.

Everybody else peered under the table, too, except for Assan.

"You sly dog," Assan's Zevran gave Jack a huge shit-eating grin, "now just who were you playing footsie with?"

"I- how do you know I was playing footsie?"

"That's how Barkspawn gets free belly rubs," Assan said from above the table.

'Hey!' Bird barked, 'your boy's switching cards!'

I wiggled and barked, flopping onto my stomach. If Assan needed me to continue distracting them from what he was apparently doing, then I was more than willing to oblige.

"Awww..." Gwen reached forward and patted my head, "he was only trying to get his belly rubbed, Jack."

"He is kinda cute," Jack said, petting my back.

"Cute?" Bannon gave me a dirty look, "that thing's not cute. I bet it's killed more people than you've ever met."

'I bet you've killed more people than they've ever met,' I wagged my tail at Bannon.

'Hah!' Bird twitched an ear in agreement, 'as the people say, it takes one to know one. Fangs and blades, what's the difference?'

"Are you guys playing or not?" Assan questioned. They all ducked back up.

"That's right! Time to get that expensive looking suit you're wearing," Hawke said, "let's play!"

Assan won with the upper hand he'd gotten while they were preoccupied. Hawke, Bannon, and the Zevrans gave him a run for his money, but in the end the head start won him the game, though there was a moment near the end where Jack figured the game out enough to be a challenge. Not that it helped.

"I said he couldn't beat Isabela," Zevran told them later, "I never said he was bad at it."

* * *

-Bird-

"These are phones," Jack declared, presenting the My People with black square stones, "you'll use these to keep in contact with us. Ianto's already put in all of the contacts you need."

"Even the pizza?" Assan spoke up.

"Ianto's already put in almost all of the contacts you need," Jack said, before pressing on one of the sides of the stone he pulled from his pocket. The stone lit up like a torch and I tilted my head at the thing as the My People's scents lit up with confusion and awe, "you press this right here," Jack tapped his finger against the lit surface, "and then tap on the number you want -scroll down or up if you need to- and then hit this little green phone symbol right here."

They all hurried to follow, though Assan actually went and hit the green button.

A sound came from Ianto's pants and the Other Human pulled a stone from his pocket, "good job, Assan. If somebody calls you, just hit the green to answer."

"And we can just talk to you through this?" Hawke turned hers over and over, examining it before she activated the lighting up of the stone.

"Yes," Ianto pressed the stone to his head, "you'll talk through it like this."

"How close do we have to be to who we want to talk to?"

"You can be miles away."

"Wow," Hawke tilted her head at her new rock before grinning and lighting her hand up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jack grabbed her hand and held it away from the stone, "do not light them on fire. Or drop them in water. They do not do well with fire or water."

"What about if I electrocute it?"

"Don't do that either," Jack let go of Hawke's hand as the fire dissipated, "now, if this symbol in the corner right here turns red, that means that it's dying."

"Where do we bury them?"

"You don't," Ianto pulled a couple of odd looking strings off the desk beside him, "you charge them. This end goes in this little port right here, and this end gets plugged into an outlet on the wall. Do not stick things in the outlet other than this, and do not touch the metal when you do so."

The stone that Fenris held made an odd noise, and all of My People turned to see. I craned my neck up to get a better look.

"That's my feet," Fenris said, tilting his head at it, "what is this?"

"A picture. Think instant painting."

"How do these work?" Assan questioned. Did the elf ever not question?

"Magic," Jack replied.

"No," Assan looked up from the stone, "how does it work? These pictures, these phone? How?"

"I just told you: magic."

Assan shook his head, frustration clear on his features, "mages can harness magic because their bodies hold a closer bond to the Beyond than those without, which makes it easier for demons of the Fade to possess them due to the closer connection. Blood magic works better than magic because it harnesses the very being of a person, making for an even closer connection to the Beyond, but absolute power corrupts absolutely, and so those who use blood magic get themselves corrupted to evil. Everything has an explanation. So how does the magic for this work?"

Jack stared at the elf as if Assan was a puzzle he hadn't quite figured out yet.

"Why don't you google it?" Ianto offered, "or maybe Tosh can explain it to you."

"What is a Google it?"

Ianto stepped forward and took the elf's phone, tapping on it, "this is google right here. Ask it whatever you want to ask and it will answer, but it only knows things that are on the internet."

"Internet?"

"This is gonna be a long night," Jack sighed.

"And don't forget we still need to get their pictures, talk to them about first aid, and introduce them to guns," Ianto spoke up.

"Please don't remind me."

About a hundred questions from Assan later, the Other Humans moved onto something they called first aid with Owen.

I liked first aid with Owen, because I thought watching him argue with Hawke and Assan to be hilarious.

"That's not how you do it, you have to have the perfect balance between helping and not breaking their ribs!" Assan said, as Owen tried to explain something called cee-pee-arrrr, "the Dalish do it all the time!"

"Why do we need this? Are you insulting my healing magic? I'll have you know that I've mastered the Spirit Healer branch of magic!" Hawke spat.

Owen's face was very very red as he argued back with them. The majority of first aid with Owen was spent enjoying watching how angry the Other Human could get.

After that it was gun time with Jack. I did not like guns. Of course, I don't like most extremely loud things, and neither did Barkspawn, and so Barkspawn and I both watched as far away from the things as we could.

"Safety off, aim, fire," Jack told them, demonstrating, eyeing Fenris warily when the elf spat at him when he tried to hands on demonstrate with Hawke, "you guys give it a shot."

Zevran, Hawke, and Assan snickered.

"Give it a shot," Zevran elbowed Assan. Assan laughed.

"Are these the minifireballs?" Hawke piped up.

"Yes. These are so you can shoot people if you need to. Only if you need to."

Hawke smiled innocently, "where's Bannon's Zevran?"

"You're not killing Bannon's Zevran," Fenris said casually.

"Not kill. I simply have a favor to return."

"Hawke."

"What?"

"No," Fenris told her.

"Excuse me?" Hawke raised her hand, "will these fireballs kill somebody?"

"They can," Jack answered.

"So if an elf got shot in the ass-"

"Hawke," Fenris gave Hawke the 'no' look that her friends usually end up mastering.

"Uh, we are clear in the idea that it is the other Zevran whose rear is at risk, no?" Zevran spoke up nervously.

"Yeah, other Zevran."

"Oh, good, good."

"Nobody is shooting anybody, okay?" Jack clarified, "that's not what these are for."

"Isn't that the whole point of them?" Assan spoke up, "you literally just said that these are for us to shoot people if we need to."

"If you need to," Jack repeated, "and- for the love of- will you guys just try them?"

Fenris lifted his and fired. The shot went wide and hit the white of the paper.

"This is stupid," Fenris decided.

"You didn't do it right," Zevran told him, "he said aim. Not pull the trigger wherever you'd like!"

The elf aimed the firestick and fired it. A hole appeared in the left eye of his target.

"Haha! You see?"

"Whatever," Fenris scowled, "its stupid. A blade works just fine. This is why I use big swords, not little bows."

"It's loud," Assan stared at his, "I don't see the purpose of these."

"Assan, when it's a life or death situation it doesn't quite matter how loud you are," Jack told him.

"But won't it chase all the animals away?"

Jack sighed, stopped, and took a deep breath, composing himself, "Assan, you don't need to worry about that. Ianto told you about stores while you were all getting clothes, didn't he?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then you don't need to worry about food."

Assan frowned, staring at the firestick. He looked sad, "that's not- fine. Whatever."

"Da'len and Spidey aren't here, mi amor," Zevran told the elf.

"I know," Assan muttered back.

"Why don't you give it a shot, Assan? You, too, Hawke," Jack nodded to them, "just give the guns a try."

Gun? Firestick makes more sense than a name like gun.

Assan sighed and lifted the gun. His shot blew through his target's neck with pinpoint accuracy.

"Alright," Jack gave the target a queasy look, "uh, wouldn't it be easier to just shoot through the eye like the other elv- uh, others?"

Assan gave him a look of confusion, "but then my arrows might chip on the skull!"

Jack sighed again, "okay, I just- won't that be a bit messy, to go through the neck?"

Assan just stared at him, "we can rinse off in a river."

"I..." Jack shook his head, "you know what? Okay. Do any of you know how to use non lethal force?"

Everyone but Fenris lifted their hands, waving them excitedly.

"Okay, uh, how about you, Hawke?"

"Set them on fire! You'll know exactly where they go!"

"Ummm... how about something less likely to kill somebody? Assan?"

The elf smiled sweetly, "shoot them in the knee?"

"No, I- you know what, your world and its people concern me," Jack said, "Zevran?"

"Assan took my answer," the elf pouted, "I suppose you could always be boring and tackle someone to the ground."

"And stab them so they can't get away!" Assan beamed.

"Exactly!" Zevran grinned, "and then we can stab them!"

Jack ran his hand through his hair, grumbling under his breath, "two. Two elves was enough. And now we're stuck with five elves and a mage. A mage. A damn magic-using mage. Okay."

I barked.

"And two giant dogs," Jack grumbled before raising his voice so they could hear, probably not knowing that the elves had probably heard him quite well, "how about we try going over this again?"


	12. Chapter 12

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's works. No, I am not dead, I swear I'm not! Here, doesn't this update prove it?)

 _Muscles screaming, blood dripping from my mouth. My eyes burned. When was the last time I had even slept? How long have I been Arl?_

 _"I'm not like you."_

 _Mother laughed, a wall of her disgusting spike-like tentacles between my companions and I. Anders set them ablaze, and pain spasmed across Mother's features but she didn't budge. On the other side of the cave, one of Mother's darkspawn cleaved Justice's head off with a single swipe of his sword._

 _"Dammit," Anders cursed, turning his head away from the sight with a wince as he turned his attention back to me, "Warden!"_

 _"You miss it. Miss the song," she cooed, closing her eyes and swaying as if remembering it, "you still remember the feeling of being part of something bigger. Miss the peace of it. Of the song."_

 _"I miss nothing," I spat, "I'm glad it's gone from my head."_

 _"Is it?" Mother asked, "is it gone? Do you really not miss it?"_

 _I bared my teeth, "not at all."_

 _"I don't believe you," Mother growled, "I think you're just like me. I think you miss it, too."_

 _"I'll miss not killing you sooner," I growled as I raised my sword. Mother screamed and stabbed me through with a tentacle, but my sword bit through her all the same._

 _Her breath rattled from her mouth, and her face twisted before settling into one of peace as the life left her eyes. The tentacle went slack, and I fell off of it, just another limp form littering the ground._

 _"Assan!" Anders screamed._

 _"Hold on!" Oghren shouted, and I only stared as my old friend cleaved the tentacles in half. Anders leaped over the remains of them, racing to my side, and flipped me onto my back, his trembling hands struggling to stop the blood pouring out of me as his magic flickered and died across his hands._

 _"No, no, no, no, no," Anders let out a rasping sob that racked his body as my blood, my life, poured out before him and he was helpless to stop it, "please-please-please, come on! Maker's Breath, Assan! Please!"_

 _I gasped, every breath an agonizing pain stabbing through me; blood welled up my throat, clogging it, choking me, and I gagged on it._

 _"You helped me even when you didn't have to," Anders clenched his eyes shut, "you never doubted me, even when you had every right to. Maker damn it, Assan, you stubborn ass! Maker kill me if I let you down after what you've done for me!"_

 _He stiffened, going stiff. The air crackled with the smell of the Fade._

 _"Yes," he said, staring somewhere away from all of this, "he's helped us both. Help me help him."_

 _Anders gasped. His eyes glowed blue._

 _I let out a shuddering breath as my eyes focused past the mage, who crackled with glowing blue power and stank of the smell of the Fade._

 _"Tam... Tamlen?" I choked out, looking past Anders, past the cave, past the pain._

 _Tamlen smiled at me. I tried to reach for him, but my hand wouldn't move. Tamlen didn't reach for me. Instead he shook his head and looked towards Anders with a look of sadness._

 _"It is not your time, Warden," Justice's voice came from Anders' mouth, the spirit's power mixing with Anders' magic, the crackling power pouring into me, "not yet. Not today. Not if I have a say in it."_

* * *

-Assan-

I turned the music up, drowning out the memory and the accompanying ache in my body. It was getting worse, dripping into my waking moments instead of my dreams, dragging me through old times.

I liked music the best. This world had amazing things, and one of the most amazing besides the instant paintings (called pictures by the OtherWorlders) was the amount of music they had 'recorded' that I could listen to. Their music was odd, different than I was used to, but still good. It drowned out the song stuck in my head, and I turned the volume on the 'headphones' up until the music from the 'Pandora app' was all that I could hear. I turned it up until the phone wouldn't let me turn it up anymore. Until my ears ached and I couldn't hear my own thoughts, let alone the song that danced at the edge of my mind.

I could feel the music in my head, a beat strumming through. I closed my eyes and let it drown out everything. Thoughts. Memories. Fear. Worry. Everything. Louder and louder until there was nothing.

Only song.

"Whoa, now, you're gonna kill your ears," Owen pulled the earplugs from my ears, "I thought elves have better hearing than humans."

I rubbed at my ears, "we do."

"Are you trying to make yourself go deaf?"

"No," I grabbed my earbuds back up and plugged one back into my ear, but Owen had already lowered the volume on my phone. I scowled at the man.

"I'm not kidding," Owen scowled right back at me, "do your little magic buddies have ways to fix hearing?"

I narrowed my eyes at him and glanced away.

'"I didn't think so," Owen said, "so when the phone tells you that you have the music too loud, I want you to turn it down three notches instead of two, got it? Doctor's orders."

"Fine," I complied.

"And really? Rock music? At max volume? I don't care how good you think Metallica or AC/DC is, Assan, doing that will destroy your ears."

"I get it."

Satisfied, Owen turned and went back to his work.

I turned the volume back up to the max.

* * *

-Marian-

"Have you seen Assan?"

"He's not with you?" I looked up from the amazing device they called a tv, lifting my head from where I had been resting it on Fenris' shoulder, the two of us curled up on the 'couch' in front of the device.

Assan's Zevran scowled and glanced around in worry, fiddling with something small, metallic, and golden in his hands. It was the earring Assan had ripped out of his ear yesterday; I guess despite having forgiven Zevran, Assan still hadn't requested to have it back.

"No," Zevran admitted, "and he didn't go with the others to go catch that thing they call a weevil, either, because he was still here after they had left. Bannon, other me, Jack, Gwen- Assan didn't go with them."

"What about Barkspawn? The mabari is never far from him," I suggested, "or maybe he went out to explore. I know that's something I want to do."

"No," Zevran dropped down beside me, staring at the tv but not quite seeming to be watching it, "he wouldn't leave. Not without me."

"I think you really pissed him off yesterday."

"But I explained! He knows what I was talking about. He did forgive me. He did!"

"Okay," I shrugged, "don't you think you're getting bent out of shape about it?"

"No!"

I gave the elf an unimpressed look, "okay, Mr. Not-Getting-Bent-Out-Of-Shape. If you don't mind, I'm trying to watch this thing about a mage in a kingdom where having magic is punishable by death and it is very interesting, so why don't you go take this somewhere else before these commercials end and you accidentally catch on fire for interrupting?"

Zevran clenched his eyes shut, hands tightening into fists, "no, you don't understand! I don't like letting him be alone, letting him be in danger, not when I can do something about it. All I've ever wanted is to keep him safe. He... I would murder the Maker, himself, to keep Assan safe."

"Well, Bannon's Zevran doesn't seem to worry about Bannon as much as you worry about Assan?" I said at the same time Fenris grumbled something about hearing that the two met when Zevran tried to kill Assan.

Zevran scowled, "perhaps because his Warden has survival sense! Assan is.. a hero, to his very core. He cares for the life of every innocent or ally, yet lacks any regard for his own! The other Zevran, and Maker knows if that's not odd to be saying things about another me when there has only ever been one of me, doesn't need to worry about Bannon as much as I worry for Assan because Bannon is smarter."

"Don't let Assan catch you saying that."

"But it is true, no?" Zevran admitted, "I... forget it. You do not understand what I'm trying to say."

I let out a groan of annoyance, "why stop now, when you've caught my attention? You, me, Fenris, Assan: we're the last we've got of our world, if what these Torchwood people said about us not being able to go home is true. So tell me what's bothering you."

"We traveled with a witch of the Wilds, a woman named Morrigan," Zevran told me, "turns out whichever Warden kills the archdemon is supposed to die with it, but Morrigan knew of a ritual that would keep the Warden alive. That Warden was, as you know, Assan. Before the battle, she went to him. She told me about it, later, before the fight, told me to keep an eye on him. It's why I argued so harshly to go with him to fight the archdemon. When she went to Assan and offered the opportunity to live to him... he turned her down."

I frowned and glanced at the tv, but it was still on commercial, "... Assan... doesn't seem dead."

"Because she had to manipulate him to do it. She asked him how she thought I would feel should he be dead," Zevran told me, "she told me he only agreed after she mentioned me. What I'm trying to say is that Assan lacks in the survival instinct department. No matter how clever or cunning he is and will ever be, that lack will keep him a fool. But he's my fool. And that's why I worry. Do you know how many times he's almost died?"

"How much trouble can he get into in here?" I pointed out as the commercials ended and the 'show' came back on, "oh-oh-oh! SSSSHHHHH! It's back on."

"Thanks for the help," Zevran said, sarcasm edging his words like venom.

"Anytime."

"He's in the tourist shop."

"What?" Zevran snapped his gaze onto Fenris, who didn't even glance away from the tv.

"Ianto wanted to sort through the Torchwood records, but he usually has the tourist shop open today. Assan offered to take care of it for him. That's why you can't find him down here in the Hub, because he's upstairs in the shop," Fenris said, "I'd bet Varric's crossbow that he has Barkspawn with him."

"Oh," Zevran calmed a little, "I... thank you."

"Stop looking at Hawke's rear all the time and perhaps I'll consider it even," Fenris narrowed his eyes.

"...Fair enough," Zevran shrugged, carefree demeanor back in place.

"Now leave," Fenris told him, "Merlin's back on."

* * *

The King of Ferelden was quiet, sitting at his desk and staring at the top of it with blankness in his eyes.

I helped myself to a chair and cast a glance at the door before turning my attention back to the King.

"And... you're sure of this?"

I raised an eyebrow at the man and gestured to myself, "even if you didn't believe my words, surely a single glance at me will convince you."

"Of course it does," the King ran a hand through his hair, "I never even suspected the Warden-Commander of being... that he was..."

"Can you blame him?"

"I... no... I- I can't blame him. He just... didn't seem the type. He seemed so.." the king waved his hands around, grasping for a word to explain, "so Assan!"

I laughed, speaking once I had composed myself, "so Assan? Is that the only thing you can think of?"

Alistair frowned at me, "well, then what would you choose?"

I paused to think it over for a moment.

"Cunning," I said finally, "no. Curious. Both, perhaps. Always needing to know about this, or that, and yet having a mind and tongue sharp enough to put what his curiosity teaches him to use."

"What, and you're not cunning either? Your tongue isn't just as silver as his?"

I shrugged and smiled, "perhaps it is. Perhaps it isn't. Perhaps I don't even care."

The king didn't seem satisfied by my answer, but he didn't push it, "so how do you expect to find them, wherever they are?"

"The Inquisition has a working eluvian. We plan on going into it. With the combined magical strength of Dorian, Solas, and I, and the use of my mark, we should be able to use my connection with Assan to latch onto his location and work a spell that, theoretically, should use the power of my mark to open a rift."

"Amazing," the king's face lit up, "could... could I maybe..."

"It's still all in theory," I admitted, "but I have faith in the Inquisition."

Alistair smiled, "I... thank you. Just.. thank you. For- for helping."

I smiled.

"Well, that's what the Inquisition is here for, isn't it? We're here to help."


	13. Chapter 13

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's works.)

-Assan-

Somebody licked my ear.

I jumped, quickly pulling my headphones from my ears as I let out a shrill squeak of surprise, only relaxing when Zevran's familiar laughter hit my ears.

I frowned and rubbed at my ear, shaking the shiver he'd caused me free and squirming in my seat, giving my vhenan an unimpressed look.

"Creators, Zev," I scowled, still rubbing at my ear, "a simple hello would have worked."

Zev grinned and rested his chin on top of my head, his chest a familiar warmth against my back, "I did say hello. Several times."

"Oh," my face flushed and I glanced at the headphones, which were emitting a small hint of music even from where they rested on the ground. I grabbed onto the part of the cord connecting them to my phone and quickly pulled them up before pausing Pandora, "...maybe I did have them pretty loud."

"What is it?"

"Music; these OtherWorlders have managed to record their Bards' tales."

"And I suppose you have already found out how?"

I beamed, proudly picking the headphones back up, "so you remember those stones we found that stick together? Well, they call it magnetism! There's this thing called electromagnets, see, and so they have this current thingy that -so basically the way the lights work, I've found out already, is that these OtherWorlders have found out how to make electricity and so the way electromagnets work is that..." I frowned and tilted my head up, not losing my frown even when Zevran kissed my nose, "you're not even listening."

"I'm listening."

"No, you're not," I pouted, "you've got that dreamy look you get on your face when you've tuned me out."

"I don't tune you out," Zevran protested.

"Well, you're definetly not focusing on my words."

"But your face lights up so!" Zevran pouted dramatically, "how can I resist but to admire such a handsome face looking so happy?"

I smirked, "oh, is that it?"

"Yes."

"And admiring me so," I said, imitating his Antivan accent, "is not simply because the great Zevran hasn't tapped such a handsome happy face for several months, no?"

Zevran shivered, a little shake that went from head to toe, "the suit.. doesn't help."

"Does this?" I waggled my eyebrows and adjusted my tie, leaning back as I did so.

"Oh, stop it," he punched my shoulder lightly, "may I mention that being here is interesting and all, but I really was looking forward to a night alone once Hawke and Fenris had arrived and would have been able to watch our backs to allow us some alone time?"

"Meeting up for the first time in a while and no time for fun on the run," I sighed, "I could kill for a date night."

"You have before," Zevran laughed before he sighed and rested his head on the top of my head again, "you've been on edge. Don't think I haven't noticed. I doubt abstinence is what's really bothering you."

I glanced around the empty shop before I allowed myself to relax, closing my eyes and taking comfort in the feel of Zevran's heart beating softly against my back.

"Jack found us quite quickly after we landed in that ally, and we were quite close to where they'd set up shop. I'm afraid of it being more than coincidence."

"You think there's an ulterior motive for him getting us to stay?" Zevran asked, voice soft. Anybody looking would think we were whispering sweet nothings, instead of contemplating things that might put us in danger should my fears be correct and overheard.

"They already had Bannon and his Zevran when we got here," I pointed out, grabbing one of the hands wrapped around my waist and rubbing circles on the back of his hand with my thumb, "how did they get here?"

"The other Zevran said they were pulled through a Rift."

"And how did that Rift reach through to an entirely different dimension, when before it had stuck to its own? Something is going on, and not knowing what it is is ticking me off."

"Is that the only thing shortening your nerves?"

I thought about it before forcing myself to ignore the fear that lurked in the song that still danced at the edge of my mind, "I'm not sure. Not yet. I need to figure out more. Tonight, while they sleep, I'm going to investigate. Ianto's sorting through records downstairs. Tonight, those records are what I'll search first. If they're keeping something, that's where it would be."

"And you'll want me there?"

"Two elves who can't keep their hands off each other," I grinned, "if anybody shows, what will they think of two elves somewhere that they shouldn't be except that they were searching for privacy when their room is shared with two others? Besides, I always feel better knowing you're there... that you're safe."

"And will said elves manage to keep their hands off each other?"

"Should we find success or keep from getting caught, I doubt we wouldn't... find a way to celebrate a successful mission."

Zevran grinned, lowering his head and planting a kiss on my cheek. His breath was warm against my ear, "I like the way you think, mi amor."

* * *

-Marian-

"You hypocrite."

Fenris jumped, nearly falling off of the couch. We both stared at Zevran, who stared back at us with a shit-eating grin, his arms crossed against his chest.

"I thought you were watching tv," he added, waving his hand at the screen, "although it seems your... attention... has fallen elsewhere, no?"

Fenris scowled, growling out his words, "get out."

"While Mr. Cockblock makes out with his girlfriend on the couch? Hmmmm... no," Zevran plopped himself down in front of the couch, ignoring us. I quickly fixed my armor -and thank the Maker these OtherWorlders didn't expect me to wear that 'normal' clothes stuff within the Hub- and straightend my ruffled hair a bit.

"It was on commercial," I explained.

"And your pretty little pirate armor was just too distracting for poor Fenris, hmm?" Zevran waggled his eyebrows at the other elf, "but no, that's perfectly fine because it's Fenris having fun, no?"

Fenris scowled and picked up the shirt he usually wore under his armor, "we were not progressing past that, currently, and we were not starting anything while people were trying to sleep. Unlike you."

"My armor is pretty, isn't it?" I winked and smiled, "distracting is exactly what I try to earn in a fight. It's so much easier to kill somebody when they're focused on how pretty you seem to be. Why do you think Isabela's got such a big gap in her shirt?"

"Because she sleeps around all the time?" Fenris suggested in a grumble.

"Hmm, perhaps she wasn't the best example," I frowned, tapping my chin before my eyes caught on the tv, "oh, oh, oh! Back on!"

"Weren't you watching something called Merlin?" Zevran asked, though his eyes were already glued onto the screen.

"Merlin ended," I pouted, "so we pressed a couple of the numbers on the remote and got this."

"I'm waiting for the wingless dragon to start eating people, but so far it appears friendly," Fenris grumbled, watching the purple creature dance around the screen.

"I have not seen such a creature before," Zevran said, watching with caught interest as the reptile hugged one of the human children, "how does it keep itself safe without claws or teeth?"

"Perhaps it is strong?"

"Its tail appears a bit floppy. Not at all useful for smacking people around."

"I think it's cute," I said, "maybe it protects itself by surrounding itself with powerful allies."

"Small children?" Fenris smirked, "I see the danger already."

"Maybe it's a circle!"

"But where are the Templars?"

I gasped and almost fell off the couch in my excitement, "that's it! Maybe it is the templar!"

"Not all Templars are mean," Zevran agreed, "it would make sense. It keeps them from falling prey to demons by keeping them happy and playing the part of the family the young mages were ripped from."

"Not it. He," I corrected, "Barney is a he."

"He is not wearing clothes and has no parts," Zevran argued, "it is totally an it."

"Oh," Fenris tapped my shoulder and pointed my attention at the tv, "there's more of them! See the green and yellow one are slightly similar, yet they must be different variations of the species!"

We all fell silent, watching the show with unrivaled attention.

"What-" Owen's voice pierced our focus but none of us looked away from the screen, "-how old are you guys? Five?"

"Shh," Fenris lit up blue for a second in the hopes of scaring the OtherWorlder into shutting up, "one of those kids is going to turn into an abomination any moment now. The two new wingless dragons are too annoying not to cause at least one abomination."

"No. There is no way in hell that you three are watching Barney the Purple Dinosaur under my roof," Owen said, snatching up the remote and pressing a button. The screen changed, and three angry glares turned on the human.

"It isn't your roof," Zevran said, "you don't own it."

"Yeah! I- Andraste's flaming mabari! That thing is so adorable!" I gasped, whipping my head around to stare at the new thing on tv.

"That's- that's a snake," Owen stared at me with a tad of concern in his gaze.

"I know what a snake is, you nug foot," I rolled my eyes, "and Maker's breath, they are so cute! What channel is this!?"

"AnimalPlanet," Owen said, shoulders drooping in defeat, "thank God it isn't Nick Jr."

"Oh, wook at him!" I squealed, watching the snake slowly wrap itself around a mouse on the screen, "oh, the wittle baby's getting dinner, oh yes he is! Wittle baby!"

"It can't hear you," Owen tossed the remote onto the couch.

"We figured that out when Arthur wouldn't kiss Merlin despite how loudly we screamed at him to do so," I waved the human off, "Fenris even threatened him, but he didn't even look at us. Now shut up. Snake time. Cute little snakes. Are you cuter than a snake? No. So go away."

"I'm done," Owen grumbled, turning and stomping off, "Jesus Christ why can't we just get rid of the lot of them."

I ignored him. After all, there was a cute little snake on tv!


	14. Chapter 14

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age, or Bloodsong 13T's works. Chapter 13 was not done, yet my half-asleep butt uploaded it anyways -_-'... so this chapter is longer than the last to make up for it.)

* * *

-Assan-

Nothing. Files and files of things that meant nothing to me. I cursed after the first hour and kicked a nearby cabinet, the sound of my bare foot hitting the metal resonating through the archive with an angry thud. It didn't help, and only served to make my foot hurt, but that didn't stop me from gearing back for another kick.

"Assan," Zevran's hand on my shoulder grounded me back down, "stealth usually means being quiet, no?"

I adjusted my tie and nodded, "focus on keeping watch. Tap my shoulder if you see anything."

He nodded, ducking back into the shadows to return to the door. Our eyes were better than humans, and what little lights we had turned on were more than enough for us to see by.

I took a deep breath, held it, and let it go before reaching into my pocket. I pressed the button on my phone and pressed the play button on the paused song Pandora displayed for me. Another deep breath and then I plugged the headphones back into my ears and turned the volume up until I could hear nothing else. Not the quiet, almost silent even to my ears whirring in the walls. Not the thoughts that sped through my brain. Not the song that danced at the edge of my mind.

There was only the music the small device in my pocket played for me.

Feeling a bit calmer now, my head a bit straighter, I returned to my work with a Tranquil like focus. Breath in. Breath out. Search for the answers I desired. Simple.

Pull out box. Open box. Shuffle past useless pictures of varying age and locations of a blue box. Doesn't matter. Nothing. I returned the lid and shoved the box back where it needed to go. Continue.

I turned my eyes downwards to scan the bottom. Most people stick to eye level when looking for something or glancing around; if something here isn't something they might want somebody breaking in quick and fast to grab, that's where it will be.

I let time slip. I had all night, after all, and only the changing of the songs Pandora played proved that it continued to pass. It could have been five minutes or five hours past before I finally hit something that interested me.

I crouched, knowing from past experiences that sitting would only give me less time to make myself scarce, and spread the papers out before me on the floor. I paused my music and skimmed the pages held by the files within the box, focus set. The song buzzed in my head, but I ignored it and slipped the pen I had stolen off of Jack's desk out of my pocket and a scrap of blank paper taken off of Gwen's. I jotted down what I needed, the messy shorthand a stark contrast to the usual neat script I used when sorting through Alistair's paperwork, and returned both items to my pockets before returning everything to the box the way I had gotten them. The box slid in neatly, as if it had never been touched, and I couldn't help but smile as I ran a finger across the clean metal before moving on to search for more.

If Ianto really wanted to be sure of protecting Torchwood's secrets, he wouldn't keep this place so clean. The lack of dust made my job easier, as I didn't need to worry about revealing my meddling in cleaned tracks. I stifled a laugh and continued, wondering if the next box would hold anything even juicier than what I had already learned.

I didn't get the chance to find out, as Zevran's tap came at my shoulder before he pushed me against the wall.

"I thought I'd have all night," I complained in a quiet hiss into his ear as I twisted my hands into his hair, "they've never seemed to come down here much."

Zevran's body shivered with a suppressed chuckle, "ah, but no mission has everything set and certain, mi amor."

"And just when I've found something good, too," I huffed as he undid my tie and tossed his own shirt onto the floor.

"What did you find-" he fell silent and caught my mouth a moment before the lights flickered on.

"Really? And you didn't even invite me?"

We broke apart, Zevran glancing over his shoulder and me peering over it at the human in the doorway. Zevran and I both blinked a couple times, our eyes already adjusting to the new lighting.

"You could have asked," Zevran suggested with a wink, "wouldn't be the first time we've added one more. We mentioned Isabela, didn't we?"

"The more the merrier," I agreed with a toothy grin, wondering if he could see in my eyes that I knew. I quickly squashed the idea down. Life didn't work that way, and I was too good at controlling my expressions and tone for him to realize.

Jack's face lit up but he quickly hesitated and shook his head, "come on, guys, Ianto will shoot all three of us if he had to clean the archives. We'll have to see about some other time. Maybe."

He frowned, as if thinking about Ianto had halted his train of thought altogether before he shook his head.

"Go on to bed, you two," Jack said, "besides, it's pretty cold down here, you'd freeze your little butts off."

"I don't know," I said, "I mean Zevran's butt might get cold but mine-"

"Go, before you talk me into changing my mind and I get in trouble with Ianto," Jack's face danced with mirth. Good. I wouldn't want to lose my paper if my jacket ended up on the floor before I have a change to store it somewhere safe.

"Boo," Zevran booed the Captain, and I untangled my hands from my vhenan's hair as he stepped away from me. We both walked past Jack with pouts on our faces, Zevran pausing to grab his still warm shirt off the ground, but shared a fistbump once we were out of the room. Barkspawn was spread out in the doorway, snoring, but he stirred when we stepped over him, the little nub that passed as a tail rapidly whipping from side to side when he saw us.

I patted Barkspawn's head as he rose to his feet to follow, more out of habit than anything.

It wasn't until we'd reached the safety of the room we shared with Fenris and Hawke that Zevran, once we were both in pajama pants and sitting on the bed we shared, asked me what it was that I had found.

I smiled and pulled the paper from my jacket, brandishing it proudly. He took it from me, straightened it out, and read it by the light of the streetlight that came through the window. But instead of congratulating me on a job well done, his brow furrowed and he read it again. He looked... sad.

"Assan-"

"No," I hissed, "don't you see? This must be where Fen'Harel trapped the Forgotten Ones. Jack must be one of them. No human lives that long. The dates were different, too long between them. Jack's immortal."

"I believe you, I believe you," he assured me as he scooted back and got beneath the covers, holding the blankets up for me, "but you must be tired after such a long day. Come on."

"I thought you wanted to celebrate."

"Maybe tomorrow," he told me, "you're just having a bad day is all. You'll feel better tomorrow."

"Zevran-"

"Please, Assan," Zevran sighed, "just... just get some sleep. Maybe it'll help you feel better."

I crossed my arms and frowned, looking away so I didn't have to look at him.

"For me?"

I sighed and gave in, scooting in beneath the blanket and curling up next to him, "I'm right, Zev, I know I'm right. I have to be. I have to."

Zevran sighed and wrapped his arms around me, burying his head in the crook of my shoulder as if he could hide me from the world and anything that might take me from him.

"We have to get home," I said softly, but even when I swallowed it didn't get rid of the lump in my throat, "if I'm right, then Jack will have to send us home when I tell him I know. We have to get home. I want to see Alistair. Morrigan. Sten. Leliana. Wynne. Shale. Oghren. I want to see everybody again."

"...It's getting louder, isn't it?"

"...yeah."

* * *

-Marian-

Somebody was yelling in heated Antivan. I half expected to find the two Zevrans in he midst of another argument when I turned the corner, but instead I was surprised to see only one Zevran. He was red to the very tip of his ears and screaming at a similarly red faced Owen, who Zevran had backed against the wall.

"Whoa," I waved my hands, emitting a weak wave of cold that chilled the room (and hopefully would chill their tempers as well), "hey. Hey!"

Zevran stopped, chest heaving, and turned his glare my way.

"Which one are you?"

He pulled a rather impressive bitch face.

"Assan's!" he snapped, "do I look like a damn Warden to you?!"

"Okay! Okay! Geez!" I held my hands up in an attempt to show I wasn't his enemy here, "do I look like I know you enough to tell you from, well, you? Or to sense which one of you is a Warden like Bannon or Assan can?"

His shoulders slumped a little.

"Now what in the name of the Maker is going on here?"

"He just started yelling at me!" Owen snapped, "I wasn't even doing anything!"

"I demanded that he use their world's devices to cure the Taint," Zevran growled, crossing his arms, "and he told me no."

"He wants a cure to it by the end of the day! How am I expected to do that in one day!?" Owen snapped, "do I look like a miracle worker!? I have things to do, and curing your messed up world's fucking Taint isn't one of them!"

Zevran pulled one of his daggers in one fluid, silent action in the span of half a second, and had it pressed against Owen's neck in the next half.

"No," Zevran growled, "curing the Taint is the only thing you'll be doing today."

"Zevran!" I reached forward and he gasped and dropped the blade when my heated hand burned his skin. I healed it quickly, but he still looked at me as if I had betrayed him, "stop this! What the hell are you doing!?"

"Doing what needs done," Zevran said, not looking at me, "we have three Wardens beneath this roof, Hawke. How long do they have? We need a cure. He can give it to us."

"Twenty, maybe thirty years, Zevran, that's how long!" I snapped, "I know that much!"

"Your brother's a Warden, isn't he?" Zevran grinned, but it didn't hold much mirth, "what happens when his time is up? What if we returned with a way to cure the Taint, or at least render it dormant?"

I hesitated. It was long enough for Zevran to shove Owen back against the wall, dagger back to his neck.

"What the hell is going on here!?"

Zevran and I both froze, looking at Jack like startled deer.

"A disagreement," Zevran said simply.

"Look," Jack stepped forward, bristling, "I don't care how the hell things are done where you're from, but we do things differently here. Let Owen go. Now."

Zevran bared his teeth, "no."

"I can kick you out of this building," Jack told him, brushing the side of his coat back and placing his hand on the handle of his pistol in a clear threat, "let. Him. Go."

The two stared each other down for a long moment that dragged on until Jack slowly drew his gun. Zevran growled and spat out a curse in Antivan, but gave in without argument. The ex-assassin released the doctor, but Jack didn't lower his gun.

"Hands on your head."

"I let him go!"

"Hands on your head," Jack repeated.

Zevran cursed again but did as he was told.

"Now start walking. You're going into a cell until you calm down."

"What!? You can't just stick me down there-"

"You threatened the life of one of my own," Jack said coldly, "I don't much care what you think I can or can't do."

Zevran looked at me but I gave him a helpless shrug.

"Some help you are," Zevran growled, but he started walking. I watched the two leave, but I didn't follow. Jack had seemed to turn into a completely different person, his smile seeming a bit crazier than I thought a smile could seem. No. That wasn't true. I had seen crazier, when I went to rescue mother and-

I shook my head, banishing the thoughts. Focus on being here. Focus on being here. I was in the Hub. I was here. Right here.

"Are you okay?" I asked finally.

Owen rubbed his throat, still staring the way Jack and Zevran had gone, "I never thought I would like our Zevran, but I'm starting to prefer him over that one. They're the same bloody person, aren't they? Why don't they seem it?"

"But they're not completely the same, are they?" I pointed out, "their lives have small deviances, like Assan's Zevran joining the Dalish for a little bit in Antivan, and big deviances, like having completely different Wardens."

Owen grunted, still rubbing his neck, "I guess you have a point."

"So what happened to get him so riled up?"

"Don't know. First thing this morning, he came storming up to me like I'd kicked his dog," Owen frowned, "demanded I make a cure. I wasn't even sure which one he was till he started yelling at me. I don't recall seeing the other one ever lose his cool like that. Hell, I don't know if I've seen either of them lose their cool except that time Assan ripped that earring out of his ear."

"We should get them little wristbands or something," I suggested with a smirk, "so we can tell which one is which."

"Joking already?" Owen raised an eyebrow.

"What's the use in being hooked up on things?" I shrugged with a smile. No. Not again. Never again. If I stopped to think, to look back, then I would never get back up again.

"I guess," Owen shrugged, "and I wasn't kidding about having things to do."

We parted ways. He headed towards his lab with all the pointy sharp things I've already decided to avoid and I headed back towards the common room. Even though I kept smiling, I couldn't help but continue to wonder what had happened to set Zevran off like that.

I wasn't paying much attention as I walked, too busy dwelling on it and searching for some sort of explanation, and so I didn't notice the other person until I ran right into them. Calloused hands caught me before I could trip, and I looked up to see the very object of my pondering. Well, almost the very object of my pondering.

"Not every day I have pretty woman throwing themselves at me, Champion," Zevran grinned, "well, not like it hasn't happened before."

I laughed and steadied myself, "sorry. I was..."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah."

"About?" he waggled his eyebrows.

"Nothing like that," I smirked, punching his arm lightly, "get your mind out of the gutter. I was thinking about the other Zevran. The one from my world."

He pouted.

"Jack's putting him in the cells right now," I admitted, looking down the hall, "because he almost killed Owen."

"He... what?" the other Zevran paused, confusion flickering across his features before he squashed it into a carefree mask.

"Had Owen against the wall, dagger to his neck," I shrugged, "Assan's Zevran wanted a cure for the Taint."

"But why would-"

A blaring sound came from his pocket and Zevran cut off as he pulled a phone from his pocket. He frowned at it before putting his smile back in place.

"Ah," he shrugged his shoulders and gave me a raised eyebrow and a smirk, "sorry, my dear, but duty calls. Perhaps we can... hold this conversation at a later time?"

"Fenris," I reminded him with a smirk, "not much of a sharer."

"Can't say I didn't try," Zevran laughed, waving over his shoulder as he set off down the hall, "take care, Champion!"

I shook my head, smiling at the elf's antics, and resumed walking, looking forward to when I finally convinced them to let me do field work, too. But first I had to figure out how to talk Jack into letting Assan's Zevran out before Assan hears about the whole thing.

There's always something to do.

* * *

The Mark always aches, but now it is a stabbing, throbbing pain. I don't land on my feet when I come through the rift I have made; instead, I collapsed, barely caught by Dorian in time as Solas steps through the rift behind me and Cole leaps out as gracefully as he does anything. Green sparks were sparking out of my hand, which usually isn't very good.

"I told you we should have had more mages present to lend you strength," Solas chided me as Dorian helped me back onto my feet.

"Didn't want to wait for them all to filter one by one through the eluvian," I grinned through the pain as I shook my hand. It didn't do much to help and I cringed at the stabbing pain, "besides, no matter how much I am able to seem happy around her, I cannot stand Vivienne, with her snobbiness and- and... ow."

"Piercing, stabbing, the pain is worse than before. Worse than-"

"Yeah, Cole, thanks for the input."

The mostly human now spirit bounced on his heels, tilting his head at the new surroundings as he gained his bearings, "you're welcome."

"Let me see," Solas took my hand, sending a burst of healing magic through into the Mark. It didn't help much. "You've drawn a lot from it, even with our help."

"I've practiced using rifts to move around before," I winced, "so what's different about this one?"

"The world is different here," Solas looked around, concern furrowing his brow as his grip tightened on his staff, "the Fade feels... distant. I know not how far you have traveled, but you may have broken through the barriers between worlds."

"Worlds? So we're not even in Thedas anymore, fantastic," I huffed as Solas let go of my hand and I rubbed my palm though I knew it was futile, "what in the name of the Creators are Hawke and Mahariel doing all the way over here? Shit, where's the-"

"Oh, you have got to be bloody fucking kidding me!" a man screeched, making all three of us jump and point our staffs at the people that had just filtered out of a large black monster the likes of which I have never seen before, "more bloody elves!"

Dorian cleared his throat and reached up to twist one end of his moustache around his finger, "excuse me? Do you think an elf could grow anything on their face, let alone this perfection?"

"Give me some mud or ink and I can give myself a moustache," I offered, ignoring the sparks around my glowing mark. I let my smile fall as I scowled at the newcomers. Several humans, two elves. Outnumbered, but when weren't we?

"Mine doesn't wash off," Dorian pointed out as Solas cast wards around us. The start of a fire blast already forming at the end of his staff.

"Wait," I paused, motioning for everybody to stand down, "that's Zevran!"

"So we're not going to be killing random strangers, then?" Dorian asked, "and here I didn't get you anything."

"Jack, that rift isn't closing," one of the two females piped up, a small, odd, box-like thing clutched in her hands.

The lead human, Jack, the one in the long coat, stepped forward, motioning for his people to stay put. I did the same, confident in the power of the ward Solas had cast upon us that hadn't quite leaked from my skin yet.

I looked up at him for a moment before pulling back my hood. The Jack's eyes widened. So the Hero and the Champion were somewhere near here. Good.

"Assan?"

"We are the Inquisition," I informed him, ignoring him, "and we are here to collect the Warden-Commander, Assan Mahariel, and the former Champion of Kirkwall, Marian Hawke."

He blinked. His mind was catching up now: my golden hair, my vallaslin of Andruil gleaming a dark black instead of a light brown Ghilan'nain, and how my teeth were sharper, my eyes a gleaming yellow. Dalish to the bone.

Not Assan, you'll notice, on your second glance.

"Inquisition?" Jack looked back at his people, but the two elves merely gave him confused shrugs. He looked back to me, "well, uh, we're the... Torchwood..."

He frowned again.

"Are you Assan's little brother or something?"

"No," I said, glaring, "I'm his son. Duh."

"Oh, ok- wait, what?"

"We are here to collect them," I switched us back on track, "by force if necessary. They should be accompanied by a Vint, an Antivan, and two male mabaris."

"Wait, I-" he shook his head, "did you say son?"

"Yes," I rolled my eyes, annoyed, "keep up, dumbass. Now, we'll be taking them and taking our leave. Starting with Zevran over there."

"Whoa!" Zevran raised his hands as all eyes swiveled onto him, "wrong Zevran."

"Wrong- what?" it was my turn to be confused.

"Look, there's a lot to explain, alright?" Jack said, "until then, nobody is taking anybody anywhere."

"You're not my dad. Zevran, come on," I said, nodding back towards the Rift.

He eyed it sadly, "sorry, but... that doesn't lead to mine. And I'm not going anywhere without Bannon."

"A different world's Zevran," Solas guessed, "interesting."

"So many scholars just turned in their graves," Dorian agreed.

"Well, you're certainly taking it better than anybody has before," Torchwood leader said, still frowning at me.

"I'm a busy man," I told him, "now where are they?"

Hesitation. I clenched my fist, digging my fingers into the mark.

"Back at our base," he told me.

"And they're all fine?"

"Of course."

"Cole?" I tilted my head towards the boy. He'd gotten me through Envy, and I trusted his judgement.

"Dagger against my throat. A cure. Give me the cure," Cole muttered, glancing towards one of the men before looking at me with a frown, "something about a cell, but his head is silent. What happened after, the others don't know."

"Cell, huh? Sure does sound like they're fine," I said casually. Jack opened his mouth, frowning, but I was preach leaping back and raising my hand. I found a connection and pulled, ripping the sky apart, and the pain in my hand grew.

Jack was torn apart, the rift tearing his life from his body and tossing his body down when it was finished. I stepped over the corpse, twirling my staff lazily in one hand.

"Alright," I grinned, "who's next?"


	15. Chapter 15

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age, or Bloodsong 13T's works.)

-Revas-

Whatever sort of magic it was that shot from the black objects, they bounced off the wards like any other spell, though unlike any other spell it only took one to crack through the wards and leave me defenseless.

"Do you honestly think those pitiful little spells can stop me?" I bluffed past my confusion before lunging forward, already swinging my staff. The dark haired elf caught it in the x of two crossed daggers and slid them apart as he pushed them towards me. I stumbled back, gritting my teeth in anger.

"They seem to be doing a good job," the elf smirked, eyes flickering over my shoulder then back at me.

I swiped at his feet and he jumped over it; good. I twisted the trajectory and his face went white as I smashed the staff right up between his legs.

"You motherfucker," he gasped out, but before I could stab the sharp bottom through him, the other Zevran lunged over his fallen comrade and distracted me with a flurry of strikes from his daggers.

"Is that a skull on the end of your staff?"

"Maybe."

"What for?"

"Dunno. Pried this thing from the hands of a dead guy. I wonder who will pry the swords from your hands once I'm through with you."

He laughed, pushing his advantage, "are you always this cocky?"

Usually I would have snapped out an innuendo as a retort to such a question, but I couldn't really look at this guy and not see him as my stepdad; unfortunately, the comparison made it hard to find it in me to go for the kill.

He did not have any such qualms, it seemed.

Ignoring the battle going on around me except for where to step to keep out of my friends' ways and focusing solely on my fight, I dodged the strikes of his blades and blocked what I couldn't dodge. His blades bit into the grooves already marring the wood from past fights, making it easier to pull him around. And pull him around I did.

The next time his blade stuck in one of the grooves, I ripped the staff towards me and almost slammed it into my own nose. He dodged the kick aimed at his groin when he was pulled forwards and then quickly leaped backwards out of range of my foot.

"You are a nasty, nasty child," he beamed at me, "are you sure you're Assan's? I'd sooner believe you were some love child of Bannon's."

"I don't know who that is, dumbass."

"Ah, the dark haired elf. If he wasn't cut, I would suspect that move alone would have done him in in the children department forever."

"I'll do you in, too," I offered, and he laughed as he dodged the strike from my staff. The laugh didn't die even when he had to leap to dodge the fireball that hit the ground where he had been just a moment ago.

"Nasty," other Zevran repeated, "Assan is all sweet and here you are, his little devilspawn."

I stuck my tongue out at him and froze his feet to the ground. He stopped smiling, struggling to get free. I didn't hesitate this time and moved in for the kill.

Unfortunately, the so called Bannon had composed himself and was already leaping to other Zevran's rescue. His blades struck hard, fast, and without mercy, and I had to stumble back to keep from getting gutted; even so, I felt a sharp burn from where the blade had cut through my scout armor.

"What in the Creators?" I spat, glancing down before snapping my eyes back on the fight and dodging his next strike altogether, "you just cut through my armor!"

"Yeah, it's called a weapon," the elf spat back, "and I'm going to put it right between your eyes."

I sidestepped his next step and grabbed his bared arm with my marked hand, twisting the dagger from his hand and continuing to twist until I heard his wrist snap. He gasped in pain and I kneed him, but not before he brought his other hand up and jabbed the blade into my shoulder.

I cried out and let him go.

"You're strong," I said, both of us watching the other warily, "normal people don't just get a dagger through armor like you did."

"You're strong, too... for a mage," he said, eyes narrowed.

"You're a Warden."

"And you're not," he said, "so what's wrong with you?"

I scowled, but before I could say or do anything, something hit me from behind. I crumpled, dazed, and the new attacker twisted the dagger already in my shoulder, making me scream. The fight stalled around us, everybody freezing in what they were doing. Dorian looked pale and Cole looked pained. Solas was watching it all warily, knowing it would be pointless to cast a ward.

I stared up at the man in pure shock as he stood over me. Despite my screamed protest, he picked up my staff and snapped it in half.

"No!" I struggled to free myself, but Jack put his boot on the hilt of the dagger and dug it in.

"Stop!" Dorian snapped, "we get it! You've bested us! Stop hurting him!"

"Drop your weapons!" Jack ordered. He looked pissed. Probably because I had killed him. "Put your hands behind your backs. Do it now, or I swear to God I'll kill him."

Cole dropped his weapons. Knowing better than to doubt the spirit of Compassion, Dorian and Solas dropped their staffs and did as they'd been told.

"What are you guys doing! Just cut my stupid arm off for the Mark once I'm dead!" I yelled at them, "guys! Come on! We've got a job to do! He just broke my FAVORITE staff! By Fenh'harel's bloody- agh!"

I was bluffing. I really don't want to die.

"Amatus, I quite enjoy the body connected to that arm," Dorian said, wincing as one of the human men yanked his arms behind his back. The man looked like his hair was a bit singed, and it wasn't too hard to reach the conclusion that one of Dorian's fireballs must have nicked him. "I'd hate to be left with only the arm."

"Each one goes in separate cells," Jack ordered, "we might have to keep this one sedated to keep him from opening rifts."

"Ooh, already going for the roofies? You work fast, dont'cha? Gonna rape me next, you Fen'harel fucktoy shem motherfuc-"

He dug the dagger deeper into my shoulder.

"Ow! Ow! Okay, okay, I get it! OW!"

"Please stop," Cole spoke up, voice soft as he looked up, seemingly unnoticing of the dark haired woman who was carefully tying his hands together, "he says things he shouldn't when he's scared."

"I'm not scared!"

"Stop hurting him," Cole pleaded, "he's just scared. Please."

Jack stared at the spirit than back at me. I growled at him, hoping he couldn't hear the rapid pounding of my heart. He took his boot off the dagger. I nearly crumpled at the relief as the burning eased only slightly.

"You killed me," Jack said, "and you know what? It hurt like hell."

"You deserved it," I snarled, "I'd do it again."

"That's the exact sort of attitude that's getting you put in the Dungeon," Jack bent down and yanked my wrists behind my back, making me wince as it pulled at the dagger in my shoulder and the muscles it was impaling. He gestured to the man who had tied Dorian's hands and the man came over with some sort of thing in his hand. I squirmed and complained at the sharp pinch in my arm when he shoved the sharp part into my arm, but quickly relaxed as the pain in my shoulder ebbed and my anxiety started to ease.

"I can get this taken care of back in the lab, but I don't think it's a good idea to let the four back at the Hub know about this," the man poked the dagger and I winced even though it didn't hurt as much as it probably should have.

"It's their people," the dark haired woman finished tying Cole's hands and looked at Jack in surprise, "don't they deserve to know what's happened?"

"We've already had to lock up their Zevran," Jack told them, "what do you think they'll do if we tell them we've got more of their people and have all of them in cells?"

"Do you think he's really Assan's kid?" Bannon crouched down next to me and I tried to curse him out but it came out as a grumbled mess of inaudible muttering. The elf leaned down and grabbed my hand, examining the Mark before digging his finger into it in curiosity.

It hurt a lot more than that damn dagger in my shoulder, and it burned worse than getting a vallaslin. I cried out and spasmed, flinching away, the rope pulling at my wrists as I struggled to pull my marked hand close so I could wrap myself around it.

"Just leave him alone!" Dorian snapped, "you've already got the man on the ground, there's no need to keep kicking him!"

Bannon lifted his hands up in the air, looking surprised, "well, how was I supposed to know touching the glowy part would hurt him?"

"I am going to set you on fire," Dorian promised, "if any of you hurt him one more time I swear I'll"

"Enough!" Jack ordered, "Owen-"

But they were all starting to fade. I tried to fight it, but my eyelids became too heavy.

Solas' voice spoke up, sounding worried, "what's wrong with the Inquisitor? What did you do to him?"

"Relax, egghead. He's just...of...sedated...no need...absolutely..."

Owen's voice faded as I lost the fight for consciousness. Good. Owen sounds like an asshole.

* * *

-Assan-

 _Lady June was beautiful. So beautiful._

 _How could I take my eyes off her? How could I resist her? She opened her mouth and I obediently picked up a candy from the many bowls around us and fed it to her._

 _"Isn't he cute? I like the little elf. Do you mind if I keep him?" Lady June smiled at the blonde elf that had just reached the foot of the steps, his blades still bloodied from the helpers he'd fought his way through on his way here. He was irrelevant. Everything was irrelevant. All that mattered was Lady June. Lady June patted my head and I sighed, content, and smiled at her._

 _"Don't touch him!" the blonde elf snapped, "get away from him!"_

 _"But look how happy he is!" she grinned at the elf, "you can be happy, too!"_

 _"I am happy!" the elf growled, "he makes me happy. Give me back Assan!"_

 _Lady June pouted. I turned a glare on the elf that dared make my lady angry._

 _The dog tied to her chair whined and looked at me with big, sad eyes. Irrelevant. The creature didn't matter._

 _"Eyes wide, terrified, would you like some grapes?" my lady sang and then laughed as if this was hilarious, and so I laughed along._

 _"No!" the blonde elf's face was growing red with the force of his anger, "I don't want your stupid grapes!"_

 _"Just one bite won't hurt? Just one bite," my Lady sang and giggled, voice raising into a snarl on the last, "just one bite AND YOUR MIND WILL BE MINE!"_

 _I snapped to attention in response to her anger._

 _"Get him!" Lady June snarled, jabbing her finger at the blonde elf._

 _I leaped down, tackling the elf with no regards for my own wellbeing. I was irrelevant. Lady June's wishes were the only thing that mattered._

 _The elf landed with a grunt of pain as he cushioned the force of us hitting the ground, the air knocked from his lungs. I punched him, hard, his lip splitting beneath my fist._

 _He grunted and flipped us, pinning me._

 _"Snap out of it, Assan," he pleaded._

 _I growled and craned my neck, digging my teeth into his forearm; his arm tensed and I heard the sharp intake through his gritted teeth but he didn't let me go. I didn't know who Assan was, but he was irrelevant._

 _His grip strained. I still had pieces of grape on my teeth from when the enchanted grapes had been forced into my mouth and down my throat by Lady June's last elf, and already the spell was working through his blood. Lady June's last elf had bled out from my blade. I wondered if Lady June would have the two of us fight to death and found that I didn't care. It was irrelevant. Only Lady June mattered. I let go of his arm, his blood dripping down my face and tasting like iron on my teeth._

 _And then the elf let go of me, still straddling me but breathing heavily, chest heaving as he fought the spell taking over his brain. I went limp, staring up at him dumbly, my mission accomplished._

 _But instead of bowing to my Lady like she deserved, the elf pulled free a_ _dagger from his belt and threw it quicker than my eyes could track. I looked up at the sound her body made as it fell and toppled down the stairs. The dagger sprouted in her neck like an odd, extra limb. I stared, and suddenly everything snapped back into place._

 _I gasped, gagging at the taste of bloods and grapes on my tongue. Zevran rolled off of me, clutching his arm, but the blood oozed out from beneath his hand. His golden skin was already bruising from the thralls he'd fought through and I could feel my own bruises and exhaustion with alarming frequency. Blood dripped down from where the thrall Lady June had had enthrall me had stabbed his dagger deep into my shoulder, and I noticed now that I couldn't move it. I hadn't even noticed, too entranced by that damn blood mage to notice the pain. And poor Barkspawn was still tied to that hag's stupid chair, toppling the bowls of candy as he hopped around and barked, wagging his tail as he realized the main danger was over_

 _My mind was my own once more. I never wanted to lose it again._

 _I grabbed Zevran's arm, examining the new gash in his arm. Even with the use of healing magic, it was too deep not to scar._

 _"It's fine," Zevran smiled, though he couldn't hide the glaze of pain that shone from his eyes in the crinkled wrinkles of the muscles around his eyes pulled tight with pain, "I'm more worried about your arm."_

 _I winced. The last thrall she'd kept by her side, the one who took me by surprise and force fed me the enchanted grapes, had_ _been a city elf, one of her servants that hadn't accepted what she was doing and so had been enthralled._ _A scrawny little thing. He hadn't had a chance once I was enthralled and had lost the motivation to save him. Lady June had ordered us to fight and we had. He didn't last a single moment against me._

 _Zevran and I fixed each other up, untied Barkspawn, and went to rejoin the others. I spat on the blood mage's corpse as we passed, hating the noble with every fiber of my being. The guards she hadn't enthralled didn't stop us as we walked down the castle's halls and out the door._

 _They had looked relieved._

* * *

I reached out for Zevran, my groggy mind confused by the fact that he wasn't curled up next to me. I reached out to grab his arm, to kiss the fading scar on his forearm, to assure myself that he was alright and okay and alive and fine. My hand closed around air.

I snapped to awareness immediately and shot up, staring around the small, empty bed. He wasn't here. I hopped out of bed, almost stepping on Barkspawn who let out a startled yelp of complaint at almost being used as a step. I didn't stop to apologize like I usually would have, already scouring the room for signs.

No blood. No signs of a struggle.

I hurried out of my shorts and into the first pair of pants I grabbed before scurrying out the door and down the hall towards the Hub. The Torchwood team, plus Bannon and his Zevran, jumped when they saw me come down right before they were about to head up, all of them stiffening. They looked tired, and Owen even looked like somebody had set his hair on fire; Zevran's boots slogged every time he took a step, leaving wet footprints behind him. The two must have ticked Hawke off.

Knowing Hawke, she's probably already gone and taken over the tv with Fenris. No matter; I was using Owen's credit card thing to buy things off of Amazon and the play store, so I didn't need that tv anyways. I've got Netflix. Maybe Zevran would like to watch some with me and I can show him that Supernatural show about the human brothers. But first I had to find him.

"Have you seen Zevran?" I asked, not bothering to hide the worry on my face, "I don't know where he is."

"He's probably around here somewhere," Jack assured me, "I'm sure he's fine."

"Alright," I rubbed my shoulder, which still ached with phantom pain. Bannon stiffened.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I gave them all a tired grin, "just a bad dream about some bad times. I just want to find Zevran, make sure he's okay."

"Ah, I'm sure other me is perfectly fine," Warden Zevran stepped forward and slung his arm around my shoulder and squeezed lightly in an attempt at comfort, "come on. You can hang out with Bannon and I! You'll feel better in no time, no?"

"Um, I guess..."

"That's the spirit!" the other Warden cheered, "come on, Bannon!"

Bannon rolled his eyes, "as long as he keeps his damn dog away."

I frowned, "Barkspawn-"

"Ah, no troubles there, no?" Warden Zevran asked me, smiling and pulling me forward by the hand, "come on!"

I glanced back at Barkspawn, who looked a bit dejected as he realized Bannon and Warden Zevran expected him to stay. He followed anyways.

"Stay," Bannon told him, and Barkspawn looked at me.

"Well? Aren't you going to come hang out?" Warden Zevran asked me, "we can talk all about all sorts of things like gossiping nobles!"

"But.. he keeps Fen'harel away..." I twisted my hands. I knew Bannon hated dogs and that's why Warden Zevran was trying to compromise, but Barkspawn hasn't left my side since we met up after the fight at Ostagar.

"We're in the Hub! How would Fen'Harel get into the Hub?"

"He.. he could, um..." I glanced at Barkspawn.

"Really?" Bannon frowned at me, "I never travel with a dog. Does it look like Fen'harel has shown up and slaughtered me for no reason?"

"We can watch after him for you, if you want to leave him here for a while," Ianto promised me.

"Okay," I shrugged, wringing my hands and casting a nervous glance at Barkspawn, "umm... stay?"

Barkspawn whined, looking at me as if I had told him I was going off to stab myself. I felt like I had.

"See? Progress!" Warden Zevran assured me, "you can't expect to take Barkspawn around with you everywhere you go, especially in this world. Haven't you seen all the no dog signs?"

I looked back at Barkspawn, sitting there looking at me like I had sold him to Loghain.

"I'll be back," I assured him. Progress. My Zevran was always talking about progress. Maybe this was my chance to prove to him that I was having a really good day, so good it might even mean I'm better and he didn't need to worry.

I knew I was just bullshitting myself.

I followed the two other elves anyways, even though I didn't miss Warden Zevran looking over his shoulder back at the Torchwood team and mouthing something at them. They were hiding something. Maybe they knew I knew Jack was a Forgotten One.

It didn't matter. I'm starting to get the hang of how these people and their ways work. Whatever they were hiding from me, I would drag it into the light.

Barkspawn was still in the Hub. Even if he wasn't by my side, he was safe. I was safe. I am. Fen'harel is nowhere near me. Nope.

Perfectly, perfectly safe.

"How about if he follows at a distance?" I offered.

"The Dalish clan I saw didn't even have any dogs at all," Bannon told me, "I didn't see any Fen'harel tearing them apart."

I tried to ignore the anxiety growing in my gut and looked back at Barkspawn one last time before we turned the corner and I couldn't see him anymore. Warden Zevran led our trio upstairs to Bannon and Zevrans' room and sat me down on the bed, bouncing up next to me. Bannon followed us in, looking bored.

"So," Warden Zevran smiled at me, "do you like girls?"

"I- what?" I frowned at him.

"Zevran," Bannon said sharply, narrowing his eyes at the elf, "really?"

"Call it curiosity," Warden Zevran said with a wave of his hand, "well? Do you?"

"I... uh," I shrugged, "I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"Not really?"

"Not really?" Warden Zevran raised an eyebrow, "you sure? You super, super sure?"

I paused, thinking back on the traumatizing sight that was broodmothers, "uh, super super sure."

"Have you ever tried?"

"Zevran!" Bannon snapped.

"Once," I admitted, "didn't really work out."

"Really?" Warden Zevran scooted closer, "what happened?"

"Ew," I frowned at him.

"I'm not asking for details!" he protested, "why didn't it work out?"

"Maybe because I thought about a dude the whole time?" I offered, my cheeks already heating up, "or how about because she was eighteen summers and I was only sixteen summers?"

"Ooooooohhhh, so you got yourself a cougar?"

"It was only a two summer difference!" I snapped, feeling the burning of a blush from my face to the tips of my ears, "did you really drag me back here just to ask about my love life?"

Bannon picked me up off the bed and plopped me down into a chair away from Warden Zevran, crossing his arms at his Zevran with a look of disapproval on his face.

"What?"

"You know what."

Warden Zevran huffed in complaint, "alright, alright, I'll stop asking about it."

"Thank you," Bannon huffed back before turning to me, "and no, we did not drag you back here just to ask about your love life."

"So about this Fen'Harel-"

"Fen'Harel!?" I jumped, balling up in the chair and looking around the room in panic. Oh, I shouldn't have let them talk me into leaving Barkspawn's side. I should have known better. I should have-

"No! No, no, no! No Fen'harel!" Bannon quickly assured me, giving his Zevran a dark glare, "how about we talk about something else? You said you were part city elf?"

"Uh," I glanced around the room one more time, just to be safe, "yes?... Maybe I should go get Barkspawn, he won't bother you, I promise-"

"Do you know which alienage?"

"Um," I shrugged, face darkening as I remembered how our trip there went, "Denerim."

"Really?" his eyes widened, "what was her name?"

"Something Tabris, I think," I shrugged, "I don't remember her first name, though I think Nikalle once mentioned her having a sister named Adaia and- why are you staring at me like that?"

Bannon looked like I had shouted that I was actually the next archdemon and had then summoned darkspawn from his closet.

"Tabris?"

"Yes?"

"Adaia Tabris? You said she had a sister named Adaia Tabris?"

"Did I stutter?" I couldn't help but huff, though I looked around the room again to make sure Fen'harel wasn't anywhere near me.

"My mother's name was Adaia Tabris!" Bannon said, staring at me in almost wonder, "did you ever visit the alienage? Was she there? Was she alive?"

"I... no.. " I shook my head, not sure what to say, "no, I'm sorry... she- I went looking for her, but I was... I was years too late."

"Did she have any children?"

"I think somebody mentioned a son, but-"

"But what?"

"He didn't make it. Got carted away for killing a noble. I saved an elf named Soris from there, but I couldn't find Tabris. Soris said he hadn't made it."

Bannon sat down, looking as if reality had flopped over on him, "I-"

"Wait," Warden Zevran waved his hands frantically, accent deepening in his hurry, "related? You two are related?"

"Family," I echoed, frowning at the foreign idea of having blood relatives, "so, we're family, then. At least, as family as two people from separate dimensions can be."

"Does that mean there's an Assan in our dimension?" Warden Zevran pointed out.

I laughed, "well, probably not anymore. Got Tainted, remember? That's why Duncan took me in the first place, that and because I had what it took to be a Warden. Probably died wandering around in the wilderness, or got put down when I became ghoul enough."

"And I... what? Died alone in a prison cell?" Bannon leaned back in his seat.

"Alright, alright, this whole family thing is interesting, yes? I agree, surely, wholeheartedly," Warden Zevran said quickly, "but I never got to ask, before I was interrupted, and I can no longer contain my curiosity! What, exactly, is a Fen'harel favor!?"

If my blush had managed to ease even slightly, it was quickly back in full force.

"You know, I'm actually curious too," Bannon turned his focus on me.

"Creators," I cursed, wringing my hands, "well, uh, you see, umm..."

They both watched in eager anticipation.

I took a deep breath, "alright. Let's make a deal. I'll tell you what it is, but I want you to promise to do something for me."

Bannon frowned, instantly suspicious, "what do you want?"

"Nothing complicated, nothing too difficult," I promised, "simple, really. A... let us call it setting the groundwork for some sating of a curiosity."

They both stared at me, waiting.

Control of the room was mine again. I shook myself, shaking a mask into place. Here we go. Grab control of the situation and don't let it go. Like pulling back the bowstring of my bow: it'll bite into my fingers and pull back, but I am stronger. I know how to do it. I can do it.

"Simple, really, I promise," I grinned, leaning back casually in my chair and hoping they couldn't see that I was ready to leap up out of my seat should Fen'harel decide to show up, "all I want you to do is make a comment about how wild those Dalish elves are in bed in earshot of Jack."

Bannon raised an eyebrow, "you could have just said you needed help getting laid."

"I don't need help getting laid," I frowned, "it just helps to lay some groundwork first. Does a lot of the work for me. If I say it myself, then I sound needy. Elves aren't needy."

"I know how to make an elf needy," Warden Zevran boasted, "give me five seconds and I'll have you begging."

"Congratulations, my Zevran can do it in two," I said, "besides, isn't even too much of a lie, either."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Have you ever bedded a Dalish?" I raised an eyebrow right back at Warden Zevran.

"Not yet," he said, smirking, "I wouldn't be opposed to giving it a try."

Bannon rolled his eyes and shook his head, "alright. It would be more believable if Zevran said it."

"Probably."

"And I would appreciate it if you don't bed my family members. It's creepy."

"Noted," Warden Zevran pouted at Bannon.

"Now," Bannon turned his attention back to me, "Fen'harel favor. Explain it."

I felt my face heating back up, having hoped they would have forgotten.

I told them. I stammered through most of it, but I told them exactly how a Fen'harel favor worked and how it was done.

Even Warden Zevran went red to the very tip of his ears.

* * *

-Hawke-

"Have you seen Zevran?"

"No."

Assan turned away from Fenris and looked at me and, Maker's breath, it should be illegal for this elf to be allowed to use puppy dog eyes. Barkspawn was pressed against the elf's side as if the elf would disappear forever if the mabari budged, and the mabari whined and gave me big, sad eyes, too. Damn. Double puppy eyes. Evil bastards.

"Have you seen Zevran?"

"Sorry," I shrugged, shooting Jack a glare from across the room, "I haven't seen him."

Assan followed my gaze. He tilted his head at the man, who looked up from his carton of Chinese food when he felt Assan's eyes on him. The Dalish smirked and winked at the Captain before he turned back to me.

"Did-" I frowned and stared over the short elf in Jack's direction before looking back at Assan, "-did you just wink at him?"

"He's up to something and I'm going to find out what it is."

"By winking at him?" Fenris spoke up, frowning at the elf.

"No," Assan rolled his eyes, "by sleeping with him."

Fenris almost lit up, his brands shining a bit by dying quickly, "you don't have to sleep with that human just to find out whatever it is that you're searching for, Assan."

The Dalish scowled, his sharp little teeth catching the light and glinting like the teeth of a wolf, "you know something, but you're not telling me what you know, Hawke. I need in that room and I need a reason for them to not watch the cameras while I'm in there, so I can't convince anybody to simply stall him for me. Bonus points if the Captain turns off the cameras altogether. If things go as planned, I'll convince him to do so."

"I'm not telling you because I know you'll do something reckless; something like this shitty plan of yours," I told him, "Zevran's fine, okay? I promise. Would I lie about that?"

"I suppose not, but there is more to the Captain than meets the eye," Assan said, "I go in, I tire him out, I have free reign of his room."

"Have..." I stared at the elf, trying to hide my shock, "have you done this sort of thing before?"

"After a while of living the life I live, it no longer matters how things get done," Assan told me, "just as long as they get done. It's pretty much a Grey Warden motto. This is the most efficient way to get things done."

I searched for something to say but came up blank and instead waved my hands and sputtered out cursed grumbles. Fenris cautiously sat me down when my hands caught on fire.

"Wouldn't you do anything to keep your friends safe?" Assan asked us.

"You don't have to do this, Assan."

"It's not like I have all the time in the world to come up with another one," Assan let out a bitter laugh, "tick, tock. No time to wait around."

"You have twenty, maybe thirty years," I crossed my arms, "you're not dying, Assan."

"But that's what Wardens are always doing aren't they? Dying? Slowly. But still dying."

"Alright, Mr. Grim-And-Dark," I said, wishing I had a way to magically fix this mess (alas, magic can only do so much), "where's Assan and what did you do with him?"

"Look," Assan sighed, running a hand through his hair. He moved his hand to his neck but seemed to remember he was in jeans and a t-shirt, not his usual suit, and so had no tie to straighten. His hand fell back down. "Do I want to sleep with the Captain? Well, maybe a little bit. Do I think I have to to get this done? Kinda. Does it really matter? Not really. Can I tell you guys why? No. Not yet. Soon, but not yet."

"Ianto and the Captain are together, aren't they?" Fenris pointed out, "that's going to wreck your plans, isn't it?"

"Warden Zevran has slept with the Captain and nothing came of that," Assan responded without hesitation, as if he'd already taken this into consideration. He probably had. I just feared that the smart little elf might be losing it a little, considering the dark circles around his eyes that made him look like a raccoon, and the fact that this was the plan he had come up with.

"Why not just sleep with both?" Fenris asked sarcastically, "then you'll get to search both their rooms."

Assan actually seemed to be considering it, looking over to eye the suited teaboy. Ianto was sitting down next to Jack and striking up a conversation in hushed tones, frown on both of their faces, but when he noticed Assan staring he gave a hesitant wave. Assan smiled and waved back, but was serious when he looked back at us.

"No," Assan shook his head, "they wouldn't keep anything important up there when they can keep it down here. Jack, on the other hand, literally lives down here. If he has anything important besides what I found in the archives, it'll be hidden somewhere in his room. Ianto likes paperwork, so there will be documents. I just have to find them and whatever else the Captain is hiding."

"This isn't even about Zevran, is it?" I frowned at the elf.

He didn't look surprised and he didn't try to say otherwise; instead, the elf just shrugged, "it wasn't, not originally, not until he made it about Zevran. If ma vhenan is hurt, Jack will pay for every mark that mars his skin."

"Alright, fine," I said, giving in to the Hero of Ferelden, "Zevran almost killed Owen, so Jack put him in a cell in the Dungeon to cool down."

Assan seemed to think it over, tap-tapping his fingers against the table's surface, "cool down? It's been an entire day?"

"What would you do if somebody tried to kill one of your friends?"

Assan turned dark, glittering eyes onto us. It felt like he was staring right through me, "if Zevran had wanted to kill Owen, Owen would be dead."

"Chinese food?"

I was the only one who jumped at Gwen's arrival. No doubt, the elves had heard her coming before they'd seen her, and I had gotten distracted. I was getting soft.

"Oh, thank you!" Assan seemed to make a complete 180, face carefree and bright once more as he beamed, accepting the food that Gwen had brought, "ha, I almost forgot to eat."

"Really?" Gwen asked, surprised, "from what I can tell, you Grey Wardens are always hungry."

"I guess I just let my mind wander," Assan shrugged, "I'm just... really worried about Zevran, you know?"

"Oh," Gwen's grip tightened slightly on the carton she held before she handed a carton each to Fenris and I, "uh, here's these. There's some bigger cartons over there that everyone is sharing if you want to try something else."

"Thank you, Gwen," I thanked her, echoed by Fenris and Assan. She smiled at us.

"It's become a sort of lunchroom sort of thing, don't'cha think?" Gwen asked, looking around the Hub, "you guys all sit over here, Bannon and Zevran sit over there, and the rest of us all sit over there. We used to be more spread out, but now everybody's got these groups. It's like high school. Doesn't it remind you of high school?"

We all stared at her blankly.

"Oh, uh, school? Where all the children go to learn?"

"All the rich children, you mean," Fenris said, "or Templars. Or Circle mages."

"Well, it's different here," Gwen said, mimicking the frown Fenris had cast her, "so none of that grouchiness. I'm just trying to be friendly, what with you all keeping to yourselves all the time."

"Thank you, Gwen," I nodded and smiled, "we really do appreciate it, you know."

"Yeah," Assan agreed, "and I never did thank you for letting me have Barkspawn in that cell, when we first got here."

"Anyone would have done it," Gwen replied, smiling slightly, "sometimes we all lose track of what matters. Forget that others are sentient, too. Sometimes it becomes too much of us against them."

"I'd drink to that, if I had any to do so," Assan agreed, smiling sadly, "for the us, the them, and all the greying that goes on between."

"Ditto," I said, prying open the carton I had been handed.

"Sometimes there needs to be an us and a them," Fenris said, disagreeing.

"Maybe," Gwen shrugged, "but not always."

She left, moving over back towards the Torchwood team and leaving us to our Chinese food.

"So what exactly does it mean for it to be Chinese food?" Fenris frowned, stabbing at his rice with a fork, "it looks like spoiled rice to me. Why is it yellow?"

"Because it's fried," Assan told him, "that's why it's yellow. They have white rice over there in the other cartons. This is fried rice. Look! Mine has pork in it!"

"Pork?" Fenris leaned over and then peered at his own, "there's more than just rice in here. Look, see the onions?"

"And peas," I grinned, digging in and closing my eyes in bliss as I savored the flavor of the rice and onions and peas and pork and-

"Carrots!" Assan's face lit up, "did I ever tell you guys about the battle on Quillshire pond?"

"I don't recall you doing so, no," Fenris answered.

"Well, it was during the Blight and it started with Zevran, Alistair and I hanging from this tree, see, and Zevran said-" Assan shot a smile to his side, but it quickly faded when the person he'd automatically moved to refer to wasn't there. It didn't take a genius to guess who was supposed to have been there next to him.

"And?" Fenris waved his fork, gesturing to the smaller elf to continue.

"And..." Assan frowned, confusion flickering across his features, "what?"

Fenris frowned, the two of us sharing a look before we both looked back to Assan, "you were saying something about a battle on some place called Quillshire during the Blight?"

"I... was?"

"Assan," I tapped my spoon in front of him, catching his attention, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he snapped quickly. Barkspawn whined and Assan offered the mabari a piece of pork; Barkspawn didn't take it, instead whining again and resting his big brown head on Assan's lap. Bird went ahead and accepted the food meant for Barkspawn.

"Are you sure?" I asked him, trying to decide whether or not I should summon up my healing aura, "do you feel alright?"

Assan froze, stiffening, "ssshhh! I'm sensing darkspawn!"

Everybody in the room besides our little group froze. Bannon and his Zevran had both gone pale, both straining to pick up on the trail that they weren't going to find.

"Assan, you can't just say you sense darkspawn every single time you want everybody to shut up!" I snapped, but the elf was already popping his headphones into his ears.

"Sorry, can't hear you, rude to talk with my mouth full," Assan said, shoveling a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

Everybody else had relaxed once my shout had made things clear, but they all looked like they were still on edge. Assan didn't seem to care, clicking the volume up on his phone until it wouldn't go up anymore.

"Maker's breath, when did I become the responsible one?" I sighed, running my hand down my face; Fenris chuckled.

"You? You're still not responsible."

"Got a point," I admitted, smiling now, "but you still love me."

"True," Fenris smiled back, leaning in. I leaned in, too, but then Fenris paused and turned his head to glower at the Torchwood team.

"What's happening?" I sighed, disappointed as Fenris pulled a bitch face in the direction of everybody else. It seemed Bannon and his Zevran had merged into the Torchwood group, and Zevran was waving his hands about, looking excited, though from over here and the music trailing from Assan's headphones going at full blast, I couldn't make out what he was saying.

"The other Zevran is spinning a tale about how wild and ravishing Dalish elves are in bed," Fenris sighed, an irritated thing that even got his shoulders moving as he sighed, "it seems Assan is serious about his sleeping with the Captain plan."

"Seriously stupid," I frowned, glancing at the elf, "what is so important that he's going this far to get it?"

"I'm going to talk to the Captain," Fenris decided, standing up, "make sure he knows not to even look at Assan wrong. I'm not going to sit by and let Assan get himself used like that."

"Fenris, don't go starting fights," I hissed, grabbing his hand and pulling him back down into his seat, "that's how Zevran got his ass locked up."

"Keeping that bastard out of Assan's pants?"

"Fenris, Assan is literally trying to get Jack into his pants," I hissed, "he's an adult, he can make his own decisions. Even if they're dumbass decisions."

Fenris scowled, blue flickering along his brands.

"Fenris?"

"Fine," Fenris grunted.

"Thank you," I squeezed his hand, "and why do you even care? You didn't want to join up with them in the first place, remember? What happened to you being annoyed at everything Assan did?"

"Maybe I changed my mind," Fenris grumbled, "I don't know what's going on with Assan, but Zevran isn't here to keep him from doing things he might regret."

"You think we might need to keep any eye on him?"

"That's exactly what I think, Hawke."

"Well, uh.. then I hate to say it, but... where did he go?"

"What do you mean, he's right- Maker's breath," Fenris stared at the empty chair Assan had been sitting in, his phone left on the table with the music still blaring from the headphones, "that little shit!"


	16. Chapter 16

("Is it still alive?"

The elf peered into the darkness of the cave.

"Better be," Zevran replied, "you know how that thing is. Come on."

The two elves stepped in, waving their torches as they scrambled over the hoard of books that covered the entire floor, but froze as a hiss rose from the darkness and two gleaming eyes peered out at them. The two elves shared a nervous look before Assan put on his best puppy dog eyes.

"Um, hi? It's, uh, it's been a while since you last updated anything and-"

The creature hissed, sharp teeth gleaming in what light they caught from the torches, huddled over a series of books.

"Oh, come now, sweetheart," Zevran gave the beast in the shadows a huge grin, "you know you miss us, no? Come on, just one little chapter?"

The gleaming eyes stared. Blinked.

"Use the secret weapon," Zevran hissed.

"We, uh, we've got, like, an offering?" Assan pulled three books from his pack, and waved one of them, "all three of the Zeroes series?"

The creature seemed to think it over before it darted towards them.

Assan smiled as the cat sized dragon scurried up his leg and climbed up to his shoulder. It flapped its little purple wings and accepted one of the books he handed to it, flipping through it quickly to ensure it was real. Finally, it let out a happy little chitter and pointed excitedly to a nearby stack. Assan carefully put the books down where directed.

"So a deal then?"

The little dragon gave a happy chitter. Assan pulled a phone from his pocket and held it out to the little thing, and it gave another happy chitter and clicked it on, already beginning to tap at the screen with its little talons.

"See?" Zevran smirked at Assan, "I told you the books would work. The 2976 species adores the little things, especially Catlover2976."

The dragon didn't pay attention, already tapping 'I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's works' onto the screen.)

-Assan-

Loud. Getting louder.

I cursed and shook my head. Reached to adjust the tie that wasn't there.

What am I doing what am I doing what is-

Barkspawn whined and brushed against my legs, grounding me to the now, the present, the real.

"I need out of here," I told him; I was going crazy. I needed to go outside. This- this wasn't what I was used to. Home had always been those I was with, not- not a place. Dalish didn't get those.

I needed to breathe fresh air. Needed to feel grass beneath my bare feet. Needed to see trees. The few trips out into that pitiful excuse for an outside around the tourist shop whenever Barkspawn had to do his business just didn't cut it.

"They can't keep me here," I told Barkspawn, patting his head, "we get Zevran, we get out, we run. We run and never stop. We'll figure something out; we always figure something out."

Barkspawn whined.

"I have to keep my mind in the game, lethallin," I said, "Zevran's counting on me."

A huff from the mabari walking beside me. I ignored him.

"Maybe I should-" I fiddled with my hands, "-maybe I should kill Jack. Get out in the chaos. Out. Outside. Get home. If I kill him, maybe we'll be sent home."

Barkspawn whined again, more persistent this time.

"What am I saying?" I shook my head and came to a stop, rubbing the bridge of my nose, "what am I doing, Barkspawn?"

Barkspawn looked up at me. His tail wagged a little.

"Just one day," I said, "I just- just want one day. One good day."

Barkspawn whimpered, tail stilling.

I smiled, more for him than anything as I rustled his ears, "we'll get Zevran and get out. Raise some hell. It will be fun, yeah? It's going to be fun. A good day- no, a great day. No more bad days, Barkspawn, no more."

My laugh echoed off the empty halls and I started humming along to the song. Beside me, Barkspawn walked along beside me, head low and drooping.

* * *

-Marian-

I ran into Assan a couple hours later. I almost hadn't noticed him in the dark, with his dark hair and tanned skin. If I hadn't caught the reflection of his eyes reflecting the light of my phone, I might have missed him.

I sat down next to where he was sitting outside a door. He'd lost his shirt, but i couldn't see him too well in the darkness. Fortunately, it seemed the elf had grabbed his jeans before leaving.

"Jack's room?" I asked him bitterly.

Assan didn't answer.

"So?"

Assan grinned, a scary smile in the dim lighting, "I found more than I expected, Champion."

"Care to share, then, what was so important you had to- to-" I trailed off. Bird had caught up by now, and my mabari sniffed Barkspawn's face. The other mabari barely budged from where he was curled up next to Assan, not even moving when Bird prodded him.

"Well, Jack is quite skilled," Assan laughed, "unfortunately, my stamina proved superior. He's still asleep."

"Not what I meant."

"Zevran isn't the only one in the cells," Assan said, voice serious now.

I frowned but replaced it with a light grin before Assan could notice it, "don't tell me: he's got a whole party of strippers down there?"

"What? No!" Assan shouted before quickly lowering his voice, "no. People from our world."

"Enemies?"

Assan looked away, "...I- no. No, I don't think so."

"Do you even know who?"

"Jack doesn't die."

"That wasn't even an answer to my quest- wait... come again?"

"Well, he does," Assan shrugged, fiddling with his hands now, "I didn't take any evidence or anything, but I've always been pretty good at remembering what I've read, and-"

"Slow down, slow down," I put my hand on his shoulder, "what are you trying to say?"

"He can die," Assan told me, eyes gleaming with excitement (or maybe that's just a trick of the light being reflected from my phone), "but he doesn't stay that way."

"I... Assan-"

"No," he shook his head and hurriedly waved his hands. When he spoke, it sounded like he was repeating something he had read, "the newcomers who arrived through the Rift were not successfully stopped until, upon reanimation-"

"Rift?"

Assan pouted before it disappeared, "they say we're not prisoners, Hawke, but what if we are?"

"I'm still hung up on the Jack doesn't die part, Assan."

"We have to get them out of there. I have the code to open the doors down there. Everything will be let out."

I sighed and tapped out a message to Fenris on my phone. _Found him_ _. He's already gone through with his damn Jack plan._

"You don't believe me," Assan hissed, eyes narrowing, "I can prove it."

"How?"

"He's asleep in there," Assan whispered, "a prick of a needle dipped in poison. Dead. He'd never notice he'd died while asleep when he wakes up."

My heart nearly stopped.

Okay. This is bad. Really bad.

"I believe you," I lied, "Jack dies but always comes back. I believe you, Assan. Why wouldn't I?"

The elf didn't relax, but something in his posture seemed relieved that I had refused, "don't bullshit me, Champion."

"Alright," I admitted, "I don't. People don't just wake up from dying, Assan. You kill him, and he's going to stay dead. You know what happens next? The rest of Torchwood is going to kill you."

The Hero of Ferelden didn't answer, looking away again.

"Let's go cool down or something, okay? You look tired."

"I'm not tired," he grumbled.

"Don't bullshit me, Assan," I smirked as I got to my feet and held a hand out to the elf, "come on."

Assan sighed and took my hand.

"I just want Zevran," he admitted, wrapping his arms around himself, "that's all I want, Hawke. I just- I just want my vhenan."

"How about we get you some clean clothes first?"

The Hero of Ferelden sighed, leaning on Barkspawn who had stood up and was leaning against Assan's legs to support him.

He didn't look like a legendary hero. He looked like he was about to fall over.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night."

"How long?"

Assan grumbled out an inaudible answer.

"Come on, Warden-Commander," I smiled at the little elf, "Zevran can wait a little bit longer."

"But-"

"Nobody's going to hurt him, Assan."

"I know."

"Then what's it going to hurt to leave him for one more day?"

It started with a sniff. I hadn't thought much of it until I heard Barkspawn whine and whimper and I turned to see the elf standing where he'd stopped, his entire body trembling.

"Assan?"

And then something seemed to break, because the short little elf crumpled to his knees. Barkspawn whined, licking Assan's face, but it didn't seem to help. The elf was trembling, but utterly silent.

"Please, Marian."

There were only a handful of times in my life where I've heard that much desperation in somebody's voice.

"Okay," I told him, "let's go get Zevran."

My phone beeped and I pulled it from my pocket. A message from Fenris.

 _What? But Jack's been here with everybody the entire time._ _I was keeping an eye on him._

I stopped dead, glancing up from my phone.

Assan stared back at me, innocent, wiping at his face, though I couldn't make out too much of him in the darkness, "something wrong, Champion?"

"You go on ahead, Assan," I told him, "I'll be right with you."

He nodded and motioned for Barkspawn to follow. The mabari did so, head low, and spared a single glance back at me before turning his focus onto Assan.

I headed back to the door and looked back to make sure he hadn't followed me back. Even when I was sure Assan hadn't followed, my heart still felt like it was being squeezed in my chest. The air around me chilled as my fear made my magic spike.

Stupid. What was there to be afraid of in the Hub?

"Why would Assan scare me?" I grumbled to myself, "he's just a tiny little elf. Comes up to my neck."

Bird huffed.

"Shhh, shut up," I disagreed.

I grabbed the doorknob, frost spreading across it at my touch as I turned it and pushed the door softly open.

It wasn't a room at all; it was a small supply closet, Assan's shirt neatly folded and left on a shelf.

"What the Hell?" I glanced around the closet at the weird OtherWorld cleaning supplies. This was most definitely NOT the Captain's room.

"You really thought I'd have actually slept with him?"

"HOLY ANDRASTE'S FLAMING TITS!" I screeched, and the entire closet flared as my magic flared in my panic. I quickly stomped out the flames, heart pounding as I whipped around and stared at Assan.

Assan hadn't even flinched. Wasn't even looking at me, the bastard.

"I set you guys up," he admitted, "I set Bannon and his Zevran up, too, knowing Fenris would overhear Zevran telling Jack about bedding Dalish elves. Fenris knows what I've been through, and so I knew he wouldn't want me to go through with sleeping with Jack just to get information. You would be willing to help Fenris. Therefore, you two would keep Jack busy, and I would have free reign to explore Jack's room as I wished, and Torchwood would be occupied listening to Zevran and whatever you would be saying to keep Jack there."

"This is a closet," I said dumbly, staring at him. What else could I say to the devious little- hell, did I even know this damn elf at all? Did anybody?

"I didn't expect you to come looking for me," Assan admitted, still stubbornly refusing to meet my gaze, still leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, "didn't know what to do. I made it this far after I got out of Jack's actual room, but you were catching up so I put my shirt here cause it was the first idea to pop into my mind and I pretended this door led into Jack's room. I thought I could lead you away from here before you realized Jack wasn't here, but then you came back here."

"Why didn't you just tell us? We would have helped you, asshole."

"Jack has already taken one of the few things that matters to me," Assan said, "I don't care why, I don't. I couldn't risk you guys by getting you involved. And then he didn't even tell me where Zevran was. And then I found out he had- had- when I read that report..."

He closed his eyes, hands clenching into fists. Barkspawn licked his hands and the elf relaxed, opening his eyes.

"And that- that whole crazy thing you were doing, acting weird, that's all been for show?"

Assan finally met my eyes with his own, defeated, the gleam of his eyes in the murky darkness making me wary.

"...No. That wasn't... it wasn't faked. I wish it was. I wish it all was."

I softened, only slightly, "well... well why go through all this trouble? Just to trick us all? Why not just really sleep with Jack? That would have been simpler than- than all this!"

The elf straightened and in the darkness I saw him move his hand to the light switch.

"Promise not to scream."

"W-what?"

"Promise not to scream."

"Why would I screa-"

He flicked the switch. For the first time, I got a good look at the elf's torso, and I had to choke back a scream as I covered my mouth with my hands.

Black tendrils covered his body like stripes. He had scars, yes, and many of them, but the black shot over it all: over the marred skin that made his chest look all out of the shape, over the gouges that made his skin dip in places, over the scratches and slashes and-

I couldn't help it. The scream escaped at the sight.

Assan flinched and switched the light off, but the memory of his scarred torso was burned into my mind.

"I'm sorryI'msorryI'msorry," he gushed, voice strained and heavy, "I shouldn't- shouldn't have turned on-should have kept the shirt-"

"Hey," feeling awful, I stepped towards the elf, remembering the black tendrils that crept up his neck, tendrils that covered his body like spiderwebs, "hey, it's okay-it's okay- I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

"That's- that's why," Assan said, "that's why I went through all the trouble instead of sleeping with Jack. They didn't get my face or my arms, thank the Creators, but the second my shirt comes off... Zevran's used to it, doesn't mind how messed up I look. Anybody else? No. Just like you."

"How?"

Assan sighed and Barkspawn whimpered, his side pressed against Assan's legs.

"You heard my summary of how I became a Warden," he said, "but Tamlen- Tamlen hadn't died. Shrieks attacked our camps during the Blight and Tamlen was with him. I- I couldn't find it in me to kill him, let myself get distracted. But he was too far gone, begged me to kill him... I couldn't. He attacked, and I couldn't- couldn't make nyself fight back. The Shrieks smelled the blood and... well..."

"Then how...?"

"How did I survive? It was the camp they attacked," Assan said, "I- they heard me screaming. I remember Zevran, dashing in like some sort of hero, and everybody else weren't far behind. He looked- well, he was pretty scared. They all looked pretty scared. Oghren says they gutted me like a nug, but that might just be him being dramatic. I owe my life to Wynne; if it wasn't for her healing magic, I might not have made it through- no, I wouldn't have made it through."

"And the- the black?"

"Taint."

"What!?"

"Keep it down!" he hissed, and he lunged forward and grabbed his shirt, quickly pulling it on, "remember when I said it was pretty bad? Becoming a Warden saved my life, but these- the marks from it never went away. I can hear- I can remember hearing the Song still. All the time. It- it distracts me sometimes, makes it hard to think. That's why- why I'm not always all there."

"And now?"

"The music drowns it out, that Pandora thing," Assan said, "lets me think. Lets me focus on anything but the memory of it. Especially the loud music, and that's why I turn it all the way up even if it makes my ears hurt. Now? It isn't too bad right now. I can focus on this, on helping Zevran, on trying to get you to not hate me for tricking you. It's harder here than it was in Thedas, because I don't get to focus on surviving, on protecting everybody. That's why I couldn't bear to stay with the Wardens, once I had fixed everything. Things were slowing down."

"You seem pretty okay right now."

Assan sighed, "call it a moment of clarity. The memory of that damn song is stronger in these silent halls. Haven't learned how to tune out here. Talking to you, right now, and I just- I need to say- I need-"

He trailed off, looked confused for a moment.

"Assan?"

He looked up, met my eye. Glanced around the room before looking back at me.

"I want to see Zevran."

I frowned and stepped forward, patting his shoulder. I had to get him back on track; a moment of clarity? I'd drag him back to clarity even if he kicked and screamed the whole way.

"But- but when we first got here, you were wrapped in bandages and your torso looked completely fine."

"The earring."

"What?"

"The earring I ripped from my ear," Assan said, "after the Blight, Sandal enchanted it for me. As long as I wear it, it hides the scars and Taint lines under heavy illusion magic; Zevran has it, though, and I forgot to get it back."

"But why? Why go through the trouble?"

Assan turned on the light, but with his shirt on he looked normal, even though I could remember what lay beneath his shirt with awful clarity, "if I got hurt, like I did when I got here, what do you think people are going to do if they see Taint, if they think I'm blighted?"

"They... they'd kill you on the spot."

"Exactly. And what would Bannon and his Zevran have done had they seen the Taint lines? Exactly that. They would have killed me without hesitation and burned the body. I'm Dalish; we don't get burned: we get buried, get a tree planted. It is only in death that we can finally stop running."

"Why take off your shirt when you heard me coming, then, dumbass?"

"Well," he smiled sheepishly and pulled on his earlobe, "I keep forgetting I'm not wearing it."

I rolled my eyes and stepped past him out of the closet, "and the memory of the Song, how the hell does that work?"

"You're asking me? The absence of it drove Mother insane. Maybe that's what's going on with me. How are we to know?"

"Okay," I turned around, held my hands up for silence, "how about we call a no-lie sort of truce. No more secrets. Now truth."

Assan crossed his arms, "alright, fine. A game of brutal honesty?"

"Yes."

"How's Fenris in bed?" Assan asked sarcastically.

"Fantastic," I shot back, "how's Zevran?"

"Fantastic," Assan grinned and laughed, "alright, Champion, alright. I'll tell you. Ask away."

"Okay, but first, while you're feeling honest... what the hell is a Fen'harel favor?"

His face went beet red, "why is everybody obsessed about that?"

"Because you went really red when Zevran said you gave him one."

Assan seemed to get redder.

"Well, um, see... so the way it works...um.."


	17. Chapter 17

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age, or Bloodsong 13T's works.)

-Assan-

"Zev!"

Zev stood up just in time to catch me the very second that we had gotten the door open. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, dragging in a deep, shaky breath of his scent to ensure myself that he was here, and he rubbed my back as I clung to him while Hawke looked on awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," Zevran sighed, clinging to me just as tightly, "I hadn't meant to get myself in trouble, Assan."

"I'm not mad," I promised, the inside of my head peacefully silent and clear, "just scared. I didn't know where you were."

"Don't be scared, mi amor," he told me, "I am right here now, no?"

"You know, I never noticed how interesting that wall is. Haven't you ever noticed?" Hawke spoke up, "it looks quite nice."

"Oh, stuff it, Hawke," I grumbled, Zevran's chest rumbling against mine as he chuckled.

I lifted my head and kissed him, just a gentle peck on his lips. When he returned it, it was less gentle and more needy. I returned it just as desperately and-

"And now they're making out," Hawke piped up, "really? In front of that poor pigman thing over there?"

"It's called-" I cut off as I kissed my vhenan again, "-it is called a weevil."

"It's called wasn't there somebody else you wanted to break out?" Hawke reminded me, "I thought this was a jailbreak, not a booty call."

"Oh?" Zev chuckled against my mouth, "ulterior motive to this escape?"

"There could be."

"So you're the valiant knight saving the beautiful princess?"

"Why not? I'm having a good day," I pulled myself away and hissed into his ear, "wouldn't the beautiful princess like to ravish his knight?"

Zev let out something close to a purr, "I-"

"-think this is the part where I go," Hawke said.

"Aww," I pouted, tearing myslf away and frowning at the Champion, "you ruined it."

"Because I'm leaving?"

"You could have just taken the hint and wandered off without talking."

"Maybe I'll stay and watch," Hawke said, sarcasm in her every word.

"Ew," I said at the same time Zev said "ooh" and I smacked his chest lightly in complaint, making him laugh.

"I'm going, I'm going," Hawke said as I went back to kissing my vhenan, throwing in a moan to make her leave faster.

"Where to?" Zev pulled away long enough to ask, "room?"

"Too far," I told him, pulling away and grabbing his hand, "the... archives aren't too far."

"So soon after Jack told us not to do that in there?"

I growled, "he kept things from me. Important things. Jack can go fuck himself."

Zev grinned, "archives it is."

* * *

-Hawke-

"Why are you so red?" Fenris frowned at me as I returned to the main room alone, "where's Assan?"

"With Zevran," I said, "his Zevran."

"With? What- oh," Fenris shook his head, "I didn't need that mental image, that's for sure. Jack's not going to be happy that you guys got Zev out."

"You think we should have left them in there?"

Fenris smiled, "no. I think you guys did the right thing."

I smirked and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently as he curled his fingers around mine, "so glad you approve."

"You wouldn't regret it even if I hadn't," Fenris pointed out.

"True," I shrugged, glancing towards the Torchwood crew, who were chatting with each other. I could see them smiling and laughing, and Bannon and his Zevran were still over there even though Warden Zevran wasn't talking about bedding Dalish anymore, "look at them, Fenris."

He looked and frowned, "at?"

"Happy. They've got something here."

Fenris tilted his head, frowning at the group.

"We'll never be a part of this."

"You were the only thing keeping our ragtag misfits and miscreants together back in Kirkwall," Fenris said, "you can be a part of anything, Hawke."

"But I don't want to be. I want to go home."

"As do Bannon and Warden Zevran, I would assume."

"Yeah," I shrugged.

"Why the sudden deep talk, Hawke?"

I thought of Assan and his talk of clarity, of how far he might go for what he believes, even if his mind twists it against him, "can we even get home? And even if we do, we still can't go back to Kirkwall. What are we going to do?"

"What we always have."

I shrugged and yawned as I dropped down into the seat next to him and rested my head on my arms on the table, "I guess."

I watched the room for a moment longer before I closed my eyes and drifted off.

I opened my eyes in the Fade. Whispers tugged at the edges of the shadows.

"Shove off before I shove a fireball up your rear," I said, flicking my wrists and lighting my hands up in flames.

The whispers cut off and the flickering shadows hissed but they didn't retreat.

I looked around the Fade's surroundings. Usually I would be somewhere in or near Kirkwall, or maybe even Lothering, but the Fade formed a forest around me. I could hear laughter from ahead, and I started towards it. Flames licked my skin within my fists, and I kept a tight hold on my magic as I crept closer. The trees of this forest loomed above me, trees that I know I've never seen.

This wasn't my dream.

But I was the only mage in this world, according to Jack, and I've been too far from the rest of the Fade to come across sleeping mages in my dreams while I was here. And yet here I was, drawn to a dream that wasn't my own, and eyeing the demons that massed around it. They remained at the edges, pushing each other, yet none dared to step closer. I walked past them without being bothered as I dove deeper in.

I felt the temperature drop as I stepped into the midst of a Dalish camp, but when I looked back all the demons were still circling as if too afraid to move forward.

Something sharp and burning sliced my side and I gasped, leaping back as I grabbed my side only to find that the edges of my skin were turning black with frost. I healed it quickly and scowled as I lit my hands back up, turning in a careful circle as I searched for my attacker.

"You know, it's rude to attack a lady when her back is turned."

I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise and a crackling sound in my ears. It was almost by habit how quickly I dropped to my knees to steady myself and focused a ward above me. A lightning bolt slammed into my shield, and at first it held, but then the mana behind the lightning flared and my heart skipped a beat when I saw cracks appear in my ward.

The bolt dissipated as quickly as it had been summoned, and I ignored the pounding of my heart and adrenaline's demand for me to run. I waved my hand, letting a ward shimmer over my skin before I powered up my healer aura.

"Show yourself!" I demanded, "you can't tango with one!"

The other mage stayed silent.

"I'm not a demon! I'm a mage!" I yelled, alert for any sign of the next attack, "I'm not going to hurt you!"

Something of magical origin hit me in the back and broke against my back.

"Well, not much," I grumbled; I should be able to rely on the subconscious regeneration that comes with being a master spirit healer, like I had during my fight with the Arishok. I couldn't risk using all my mana on holding wards while the other mage picks at me little by little.

"Go away!"

"He speaks!" I crowed, waving my staff in a wide arc as I turned and blasted off a fireball in the other mage's direction.

It hit. The other mage let out a wheeze, but didn't scream as the force of the blow knocked him off his feet. I darted in before he could get his bearings, straddling the mage and forcing his hands above his head where I froze them to the ground.

I got a good look at my attacker for the first time.

An elf. Well, a Dalish elf, but I could have guessed that one already.

He was trembling, his golden hair plastered to his head with sweat, sweat which made his black vallaslin gleam on his face. He looked like Assan at first glance, if one didn't take into account the different hair and vallaslin. The elf bared his teeth at me, teeth much sharper than Assan's, and his sharp pupils were so large his eyes looked black.

He grinned at me, but the cocky look he was probably going for was ruined by the terror easily written across his face and the tremble that edged his voice, "kinky! Why, the last woman who straddled me so got somewhere! Is this where this is leading?"

I laughed, "not even going to buy me dinner first? Scandalous!"

"Scandalous is my middle name," the elf smirked, but he was still trembling, "let me up and maybe we can-" he clicked his tongue and winked.

"Resume fighting to the death?"

"If that's what gets your motor running."

"Hmm," I tapped my chin, "let me think... Mmmm, no. You know, suggestive remarks are a shitty defense mechanism."

"Ah, but a wonderful distraction mechanism."

"Distract-?" the elf had freed his hands, and he used them to suckerpunch me square in the face.

He had a surprisingly strong right hook for such a scrawny looking elf, and my ears rang from the hit, but I didn't let myself get tossed off. Instead, I powered up my rock armor and laughed at him as he wheezed under the weight of all the rocks.

"That was so rude!" I grinned at him, "do you punch every girl you come across?"

He scowled at me, cocky and flirty façade gone, "this is the part you make your damn offer, isn't it? What's it going to be? Riches? Fame? Power? Maybe a bunch of virgins? Joke's on you, I don't care. I don't want anything."

The demons on the sidelines. Some must have been brave enough to filter in and try their hand at getting this mage. But what was so special about him that so many were gathered around? And how long has be in the Fade getting picked at by demons? Long enough to have gotten to the point that he had attacked me on sight.

"I'm not a demon, dumbass, that's what I've been trying to tell you."

He stared at me for a long moment before all the struggle went out of him and he went limp. I got off of him and offered him my hand to help him up. To my surprise, he accepted it.

He did more than accept it. The second he was on his feet he tackled me in a hug and sobbed into my shoulder. I patted his back awkwardly as the elf clung to me, "uh... you okay? You're not pulling a Zevran and 'resting your head upon my bosom' are you? Because if you are I might have to set you on fire."

"No! No, I-" he stepped back quickly, furiously wiping at his face, "I.. I don't even know how long it's been since I've seen a friendly face. It's hard to tell in here. The demons have been here, goading each other into having a go at me, and they've been here for ages. I'm exhausted. I didn't- I don't know how much longer I could have done it."

"Why are there so many demons around, anyways?" I asked and stuck my tongue out at the shadows that syrrounded us. The demons hissed and retreated a couple inches, a sparse few taking tentative steps towards us then retreating back or being dragged back by others who wanted to try their luck.

The elf rubbed the palm of his right hand, "it.. doesn't matter right now. You're here. That's what matters. I can't- I can't wake up. I don't know what's wrong."

I tried to imagine not being able to wake up. To be stuck in the Fade with demons closing in and no way to escape. It sounded horrible.

"I'm Hawke," I told him, holding out my hand, "Marian Hawke. Nice to meet you, now that you're not trying to kill me."

"Marian Hawke?" his eyes widened, "Varric's friend? Champion of Kirkwall?"

I perked up, "you know Varric?"

"I'm friends with him!"

"Really!? How is he? Is he alright? He's doing alright, right?"

"Great! He's doing great!..Well, as great as one can when the world is ending."

"That's fantast- wait, what about the world ending?"

He nodded quickly and explained. When he was done, I cursed and punched a tree. Bad idea, but healing the bones I had broken in my hand was child'child's play. Sometimes it's easy to forget how fragile the bones in hands are.

"And so you need my help?"

"It would be most appreciated, yes."

"I'll help," I grinned, "I mean, here I thought we were stuck here and in you and your Inquisition come like Wardens on griffins. Can't say we expected the Inquisition. Or even knew there was one."

The elf shifted, "Wardens on griffins? Why that analogy? Why not elven heroes on halla steeds?"

"Because I like griffins more," I told him, holding out my hand, "you find out how to get us home, and I'll help you in your fight against Corypheus."

"Deal," he shook my hand, "you won't regret it, Champion."

"What's your name, anyway, Inquisitor?"

He grinned, "it's Revas. Revas Mahariel."

"Revas?"

"It means freedom, in my language," he nodded, looking a tad relieved as if he had expected a different response, "my father was always going on about the importance of being free. Never again shall we submit. His favorite line to tell me."

"Sounds like Assan."

Surprise flickered across his face, "so you do know the Hero of Ferelden."

"Well, duh."

"And what? No questions? No wow, hows? No surprise? No comparing me to my papa?"

"Should I?"

He grinned a large grin and shook my hand, "no. It's a pleasure to meet you, Champion."


	18. Chapter 18

(I don't own Dragon Age, Torchwood, or Bloodsong 13T's works. Sorry about the wait -boyfriend cheated and I REALLY didn't want to kill anybody off by accident in this story.)

-Assan-

I heard yelling, which I wasn't too excited to hear. I squirmed as I awoke, trying to figure out where I was, but two familiar arms pulled me tighter to a familiar chest. I sighed, happy, and cuddled against him. Despite the metal floor below us, we were content.

Until the lights turned on. The instant the lighting changed, Zevran flipped us, covering me with his body. I suddenly became very aware of the fact that I hadn't had the chance to put my enchanted earring back on.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING DOWN HERE!?"

I scowled and tucked my head into the crook of Zev's neck, wrapping my arms around my vhenan as I worked on shaking my drowsiness from my head.

"Sssshhhh," Zevran shushed whoever was yelling.

"Don't tell me to shush!"

"Make them go away," I whined.

"Go away," Zev told the intruder.

"I'm not going away! You're not even supposed to be out of- out of-" I had looked up over Zev's shoulder, blinking in confusion as I saw Ianto, who trailed off when I turned my most innocent look on him. His face went bright red and he looked away as he realized neither Zevran nor I were wearing anything.

"You," Ianto frowned and pointed in my general direction, still not looking at us, "you let him out, didn't you?"

"Hi, Ianto," I chirped. Zev's chest rumbled with restrained laughter.

"What are you two doing down here?"

"Each other," I answered.

Zev couldn't keep his laugh down. His entire body shook with the effort, but a "pffft" still escaped him.

"I-" Ianto sighed and ran a hand down his face, "out. Get your clothes on. Get out of the archives."

"How did you know we were down here?"

Ianto glared at the wall and shook his hand, showing the stapled papers in his hand, "to put something away. In the archives. Like it's here for."

"It is a bit too metally," Zevran said, ignoring my grumbled 'metally isn't even a word' and adding, "leave the papers. Now that you've woken us up, we have very important business to get back to."

"We're working very hard," I agreed, laughing when Zev waggled his eyebrows at my choice of words.

"Well, you'll be excited to hear that you get a break from your very hard work-" Zevran snickered again when Ianto said hard- "and get out of the archives."

I groaned and let my head drop to the floor instead of straining to look over Zevran's shoulder, "could- could you maybe leave first? Let us get dressed at least?"

"And what, give you two the chance to shag each other in the archives? No. Your clothes are in the hall. Enjoy your walk of shame."

"Again."

"What?"

"Shag in the archives again."

"Get out."

"Turn around," I ordered. Ianto rolled his eyes at my tone but did as told, crossing his arms and turning away from me. Once I was sure he wasn't even able to see us in his peripheral vision, I motioned to Zevran that he could get off me.

He lingered, but Ianto cleared his throat when he didn't hear us getting up and Zev grudgingly got up and helped me to my feet. He grabbed my butt as I passed and I chittered out a Dalish curse and smacked his arm.

"I couldn't help it!" Zev grinned, "it was right there!"

I returned the favor, pinching hard enough to make him yelp, but Ianto cleared his throat again and so we hurried out of the archives.

Grabbing my shirt off the floor outside the door was the first thing that I did, and once I had gotten it on I grabbed the nearest pair of jeans. I accidentally shimmied into Zevran's pants while he got mine, and there was an awkward moment while we traded them for our correct clothes. Barkspawn roused from where he'd been sleeping in the doorway, and he tilted his head at us.

"That was fun," Zev said to break the silence, "we should do it more often."

I laughed and rubbed my back, "maybe we should find an actual bed next time. We're not as young as we used to be."

"Oh, shush," Zev pulled his shirt on and leaned forward to kiss me, "we're still both young, no?"

"Well, I've certainly lived longer than I had expected to, that's for sure."

Zev laughed and took my hands; he spun me around, grinning as I let out a sharp laugh of delight and Barkspawn let out a happy yip, before Zevran dipped me. When he pulled me back up, he placed a light kiss upon my lips, "you're stuck with me till we're old and grey, mi amor."

I laughed and kissed him back, "is that so?"

"I would march upon the Black Palace, itself, if that was what it would take to make it so," he promised me.

"Oh, really?" I leaned my forehead against his.

"Oh, really," he smirked and then he leaned in for another kiss, "that was fun, too. I miss dancing with you."

The walls started to scream, making us both jump. We reached for our weapons, but when my hands closed around nothing I cursed and quickly located my weapons where they had been kicked against the wall. Barkspawn was on his feet in an instant, his ears flat against his head and his teeth bared.

Ianto darted out of the archives, looking determined and worried at the same time. Zevran and I both turned to greet him, already voicing our startled questions.

"What's going on?" I asked him as Zev and I gave chase after the man, "Ianto! Ianto, what's going on!?"

"I don't know! Something's in the Hub!"

Zev and I shared a look. The sirens still blared, and the lights flared painfully.

I was suddenly painfully aware of my lack of armor. Had I ever even remembered to get my armor back? I couldn't remember over the sirens.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

* * *

-Hawke-

"I'll be back, okay? I'll find out why you can't wake up and I'll fix it," I told the elf after he had explained what had happened to the Inquisition upon getting here. I tried to look calm, but inside I was simmering with anger. Assan had been right.

"You're leaving?" Revas' eyes widened and he glanced at the hissing shadows.

"Not for long," I promised, "I'll come back, I promise. But I can't help you here."

Revas nodded, "a-alright. But please, Champion, please hurry."

I nodded and focused on getting out. Revas must be one of the others trapped in the dungeons, considering the Inquisition's run in with Torchwood. If I could convince Jack to help...

"I'll be back soon. You'll make it, Revas, just don't let them posess you."

"This isn't my first Fade visit, albeit one I can't seem to escape from," Revas scowled, "go, then. I'll be fine."

I nodded and eyed the shadows one last time before I focused on getting out. The sound of the demons hissing and shrieking followed me out.

I came awake with a jump and a gasp, half expecting to still be surrounded by demons. Fenris caught me before I could fall off my seat, but I trembled in his grasp and clung to his armor, mind churning in my drowsiness as I forced myself from the Fade. Forcing yourself out of the Fade always sucks, but at least it was an option.

An option that Revas didn't have.

"Hawke!" Fenris startled and supported my weight, keeping himself from toppling off his own chair. His shout caught everyone's attention, and I noticed that Ianto wasn't present, but I was still weary and still feeling the effects of forcing myself out of the Fade so it didn't really register.

"Demons!" I spat, clinging to his armor, "too many demons!"

"Demons!?" Bannon and Warden Zevran were already on their feet, eyes darting around the room. Fenris tensed and his tattoos flared.

"Demons?"

"A mage!" I nodded, glancing around the room as if the shadows in the real world could attack me. I squinted, but the shadows here were just shadows. "There's a mage trapped in the Fade! The demons are everywhere!"

"Calm down," Fenris told me, pulling me closer in an attempt to help me, "you're alright. Tell us what's going on."

"There's a mage trapped in the Fade," I said once I had shaken the cloudiness from my mind, "he's surrounded by demons. Fenris, I've never seen so many demons!"

"What's lizard girl freaking out about?" Owen spoke up, but I didn't even pause to snap at him.

"He says he can't wake up!" I said, "the demons will rip his mind to shreds!"

"He could be possessed at any moment," Fenris scowled, his lyrium tattoos flaring a blue so bright his very skin seemed to glow blue, "is it the mage that got us stuck here?"

"No!" I shook my head quickly, "he says his name is Revas."

A shrill screech pierced the room. The lights started flashing. I saw all the elves wince as their heightened senses were bombarded.

Jack looked pale, "Owen-"

"The sedatives," Owen said, as if confirming something between the two of them, "shit."

* * *

-Revas-

She'll be back.

She promised she'd be back. Soon.

Please come back.

I swallowed and curled up into a tighter ball, watching the feet of the demons walking around the land ship, sniffing the air. The more time that passed, the more exhausted I became, the braver they grew.

Something latched onto my feet and yanked me out, dragging me out from underneath the aravel and into the open. I froze it solid, but the others fell upon me, screeching like a pack of banshees. I recognized the screams. Terrors. All of them, attracted by my fear. I screeched back, hissing and spitting as I bit and punched and kicked in quarters too small to swing my staff.

The demons retreated and I took the chance to pull myself to my feet. I limped away as quickly as I could, but the Terrors were faster.

I was tackled to the ground, which was churning from grass to bloodied snow. The Fade was reacting to my fear and I was losing control of my surroundings. The empty Dalish camp flickered, changing and snapping into new shapes. Trees contorted into mountains, into fire, their whispers turning into screams.

Haven. I was watching it fall all over again, all around me.

Despair demons moved in, no longer able to resist. The Terrors and Despairs hissed and ripped at each other in their rush to grab me.

The Terror that had brought me down ignored them, leaning down and sniffing my neck with a loud, exaggerated sniff. I knew it was a ploy to make me more afraid, but a pitiful wail escaped me anyways. The Terrors and Despairs frenzied. The Terror above me was pulled off and ripped to shreds by every demon that could land a claw on it.

I felt like my heart was going to stop. The demons were screaming, crying, wailing, and I opened my mouth.

Normally, I would counter my fear with a snide remark.

But everything in me had shortcircuited. I curled up in a ball, ignoring the blows that battered my form and ignoring the howls of the Terrors frenzying as they worked me into a panic. One of them grabbed hold of my arm and bit into the mark.

It flared as I let out an agonized shriek. The demons froze as the Fade churned.

It ripped.

Howling with delight, they lunged for the rift I hadn't meant to open. I saw odd stone through it, and as the demons swarmed free from the Fade a shrill screech reached my ears as the lights on the other side flared and flashed.

Forgotten in their rush to escape, I pulled myself up and lunged for the Rift. Where the demons moved through, I only bounced off as if I had hit a wall.

"No, no, no, no, no," I pounded on the invisible barrier, "Creators damn it, why can't I wake up!?"


	19. Chapter 19

(I don't own Torchwood, Dragon Age, or Bloodsong 13T's works.)

-Assan-

We followed close behind Ianto, matching our pace with his to keep from passing him. The sound of the sirens bombarded my ears, but I grit my teeth and did my best not to let it affect me.

Ianto was tapping at his phone inbetween running before he let out a sharp huff and suddenly took a sharp left. Zevran turned with him, but Barkspawn and I skidded a couple steps before righting ourselves. Ianto may know his way around, but we sure as hell did not.

The dungeon, when we reached it,was teeming with so many demons that I froze at the sight, not snapping out of it until Zevran grabbed my shoulder.

"We've faced worse, no?" he grinned, though he could not hide the tension in his confident expression from me, "besides, maybe we'll get lucky and sort this out quickly."

"Yeah," I agreed, "yeah, we've got this."

We dove into their ranks, attacking like demons ourselves. I went almost deaf at the sudden assault of shrieks and wails that joined the clamor of the sirens. There was barely enough room to fight with so many squeezed into the hall between the cells, and demons were still coming through a glowing green rip in the air; a rip in the very fabric seperating our world from the Fade.

Zevran and I were forced to resort to shoving and jabbing with our dagger hilts and our elbows, using blades when there was room. With no room for my longsword, I had only my dagger, but Zevran always carried extra and we were already back to back, so I slipped another dagger from his belt to get myself two.

"Mi amor, getting frisky already!?"

"Shove over, Zev," I replied, jabbing my elbow into the gut of a terror demon and jabbing my blade into its neck, "we might have to fall to Plan M."

"Plan Might Die? How quickly crap can hit the tornado," Zev scowled, "that's my least favorite plan. Could we manage to fight this without you making yourself bleed out?"

A terror turned as I jostled into it. With a shrill screech, it bit into my shoulder but let go the second its tongue tasted the Taint beginning to focus in my veins.

I grit my teeth, my blood flowing down my shoulder and coating my blades. The demons who felt the bite of my blades dropped and writhed as my Tainted blood ate away at them. Zevran finished off the ones who didn't die right away.

For a second it seemed we might actually be winning against the demons; alas, for all our battle prowess, we were only two mortal elves and a dog. I could no longer see Ianto, and I could only pray to the Creators that the human had gotten back to safety.

I was beginning to get lightheaded and every demon I cut down seemed to be replaced by two more. It was a horrifying moment when I realized the demons had herded Zevran and I into opposite directions and Barkspawn was nowhere to be seen.

Blood seeped from hundreds of cuts and gashes on my body, but I only focused the blood and used it to tear into the demons around me, barely feeling them cutting right back at me. A space cleared suddenly around me, and I gripped my daggers tighter as I moved to lunge forward towards the retreating demons. Too late I realized why they were moving away.

Something grabbed onto my shoulders and dug sharp nails into my skin before I could move; the demon slammed me into the glass of the nearest cell and my heart almost stopped as the weevil within slammed against the glass, teeth gnashing, seperated only by the glass. I gasped and struggled, but the demon slammed my head into the glass so hard I saw stars. The demon ripped my weapons away from me while the world spun.

The demons turned away from me as a war cry sounded somewhere down the hall, but the one holding me against the glass didn't give up its catch. The weevil on the other side of the glass was snarling and clawing at the glass, and I couldn't help but wince.

"Hello," a voice purred in my ear, "a little elf so far from his home?"

I clenched my eyes shut before opening them, but it didn't help. My head had already been lightheaded from blood loss and now there was blood trickling into my right eye from where my head had been smashed into the glass.

The demon's breath was hot against my ear, "what tasty little desires and feelings you've buried, little hero. But you can't hide them from me. I can give you them. I can give you everything you desire."

"I have all that I desire already, demon," I told it.

The demon hissed and turned me around, slamming my back into the glass and grabbing my chin, forcing me to look it in the eyes as I came face to face with the desire demon. Its body pressed against mine, pinning me against the glass.

"Really?" she-it-whatever the hell demons are- grinned and ran a hand down my chest, "there's nothing?"

"Nothing," I squirmed as the hand moved lower and I gave her my sharpest glare. The hand moved away.

It smiled and shoved my head back against the glass, leaning forward to whisper against my ear, "you can't lie to me. I can see all your wants, all your desires."

I bared my teeth and growled, "get off of me!"

"I can see why you'd bury them, little elf. Why, Nikalle would be so ashamed of you."

"Get out of my head!"

"I'm not ashamed of you," she cooed, giving me a look of sympathy that I didn't believe for a second, "in fact, I accept it. I can do more than accept it. I can give it to you."

It smiled. The world grew fuzzy around me but I wasn't sure if it was the demon's work or from the blood loss.

And then my reality began to change; I clenched my eyes shut immediately.

"Open your eyes, little elf," the demon told me, "be a good boy. It's rude to refuse a gift."

"Get out of my head," I said, "out. My mind is mine. My mind is mine. My mind-"

"Assan? What are you doing?"

At the sound of that voice, I opened my eyes.

"What?" I asked, staring around the yard. I had been doing something, hadn't I? What-

"Come on," Graves smiled and patted my shoulder, "you know mother and father will be disappointed if you miss dinner. Mother's probably already getting back at you, telling your husband all your embarassing baby stories."

I laughed and rubbed the rounded tip of my ear selfconsciously, brushing off the feeling of wrongness that squirmed in my gut.

"Don't worry, brother, I won't miss it," I promised, "just because I'm the Hero of Ferelden doesn't mean I'm immune to mother's looks of disappointment. And surely Zevran has enough embarassing stories of me that a couple more won't make a difference."

"Heroes of Ferelden," Graves corrected.

"Whatever you say, Warden-Commander," I smirked, "just because you were there doesn't change the fact that Assan Cousland is the one who killed the Archdemon."

"As if!" my older brother laughed and ruffled my hair, "you would have been lost without me!"

"Ha! As if!" I smiled, disregarding the coiled dread. Everything is… perfect.

I laughed and ducked out from under the hand messing up my hair. I ran off, Barkspawn yipping with delight as he kept up with me.

"Come on, Graves! We can't leave everyone waiting!"

-please, no, this isn't-please-

Graves patted my shoulder as he ran past me, "too slow!"

"Hey! No fair, your legs are longer than mine!" I beamed, speeding up, losing track of what I had been so worried about and not really caring enough to try to remember.

Everything is.. perfect.

* * *

-Hawke-

Demons were everywhere. Bird whined beside me, but it seemed the demons were swarming something going on somewhere down the hall instead of noticing us yet. I heard a scream, but I couldn't tell if it was a demon's or not. I waved my hand, motioning to Bird to stay near the Torchwood people.

"Assan and Zevran are already in there," Ianto told us, his gun clicking as he slid a new round in, "Zevran's still standing, but Assan- bloody- last time I saw he was.. he was covered in blood.. I don't know if either of them are even still alive. It doesn't look good, Jack."

Bannon and his Zevran shared a look before diving in, already tearing into the demons. Fenris seemed to radiate blue from his very skin rather than just the brands as he hefted his sword and leaped in alongside them.

"We need to get to the elf. If he can open them, maybe he can close them," Jack stepped up, shooting a demon point blank between the eyes when it lunged towards those of us still at the door, "any of your magic tricks capable of clearing a path for us, Hawke?"

I took a deep breath before focusing my magic and slamming the bottom of my staff into the ground. Electricity surged across the ground, and I grimaced as i forced it to circle around my allies. Demons shrieked and turned towards me as they felt my spell electrocute them and I blew them all a kiss and a wink.

"Come on, there's a mage on the menu now, boys!" I shouted over the clamor. The demons surged towards me and I leaped into their ranks, laughing as I smashed my staff into them, the bladed end cutting through them like butter with a hot knife.

Probably helps that there's a fire rune on that blade courtesy of dear little Sandal.

Bannon and Zevran tore into the distracted demons and I heard Fenris scream a war cry as he swung his sword and cleaved a whole row of Terrors in half. With the demons distracted, I caught a glimpse of Jack moving quickly through towards the cells in the space that had cleared. But he was alone. Why was nobody backing him up?

A terror ripped its claws down my back but I barely felt it as I focused my healing aura and my skin stitched itself back together. I stabbed the blade of my staff through its gut and dragged it close to me.

"Spirit healer, bitch," I hissed into its ear as I twisted the blade. I shoved it off the blade before it had even finished with its last breath.

I glanced once more in Jack's direction, but I didn't see him. No time to think, I moved towards where he had been, summoning up my rock armor and powering through the despairs and terrors.

A flash of red caught in the edge of my vision and I twirled on a dime. My staff blade froze an inch away from a familiar nose on a familiar face, the red figure barely leaping back in time.

I nearly spat out my relief as I turned away, already tearing into the demons surrounding us, "Maker's breath, Assan, I nearly killed you!"

"Nice to see you alive, too… Hawke," Assan said, but his words were hesitant. I glanced over at him and waved my hand over him, casting a healing spell. Ianto hadn't been lying; the elf was covered in blood, and I know for a fact that demons don't bleed.

"Where's Zevran?"

"Zevran? He's… somewhere, I'm pretty sure."

"Barkspawn?"

Assan grunted, but I didn't know if it was his response or if it was exertion from the demons he was stabbing his daggers into while he covered my back, "where are we going?"

"Jack was saying something about an elf!"

"An elf? What elf?" Assan called to me.

I turned and grabbed the elf, pulling him closer and saving him from a terror's swipe that may have taken off his head had it landed. I jerked my head towards the cell we were nearing, where I was relieved to see Jack working on getting the door open. Assan and I reached him, covering his back against the horde. He spared us a single grateful glance before finally getting the door open.

"Pray this works," Jack said, pulling the cap of an odd object. The second I recognized it as a needle, I shied away from him and the tiny weapon, but Jack didn't even look at me, storming into the cell where the elf I had seen in the Fade was curled up in a ball.

Jack reached down a pulled a needle (one I noticed was connected to an odd bag on a pole now that I was risking a look) from the Inquisitor's arm. Once he had done so, plunged the syringe he held into the Inquisitor's chest.

It was like seeing a corpse come back to life. The Inquisitor's eyes snapped open and he snapped up so quickly he nearly headbutted Jack in the face. Wide terrified eyes snapped around the room, but the captain roughly pulled the Inquisitor up by the arm and turned the elf who had, just a moment ago, been dead to the world, towards the rip in the world.

"Close," Jack hissed at the elf, "close it now."

Maybe he understood. Maybe his brain hadn't kicked in yet and so the order was registered and mistaken for his own idea, or maybe he wasn't conscious enough yet to make his own decisions.

Whatever the case, Revas stumbled forwards and lifted his hand. It was my first time seeing the Anchor in action, and it didn't disappoint. The green light that erupted from the elf's hand and into the Rift stank heavily of the Fade, as if the elf had grabbed the Fade and twisted it to his own use. The Rift sparked and the demons all dropped, as if Revas had cast the strongest paralyzing glyph I've ever seen.

Assan crumpled against me, his daggers clattering against the floor as they flipped from his hands. I barely caught the elf in time, but Assan falling seemed to have snapped everybody else out of whatever stupor they had been in.

Between Torchwood and the rest of us, the demons were quickly dispatched before they had a chance to recover.

Did they die then? Or simply get banished back into the Fade? But they could die in the Fade, couldn't they? I've killed demons in the Fade before, and they had seemed pretty dead.

Revas lifted his hand again, eyes a bit clearer than before as the green shot from his hand to the Fade again; the Rift spasmed for a moment before Revas ripped his hand away, as if angrily pulling shut a door. The Rift seemed to implode, then disappeared entirely.

Assan seemed to be regaining his strength, and he waved me off as he pushed away and stumbled a couple steps, "just- just a bit of blood loss. Nothing I can't replace."

"Enough to collapse like that?" Owen looked Assan over as Jack moved a dazed Revas back into his cell, the door sliding shut when Jack stepped out, "no. You need rest, maybe a bloody juice box or something like that. What did you do? Try to see how many times you can get hit before you get yourself killed?"

"Something like that," Assan managed a weary smile as one of the Zevran came over, looking a bit bloodied but otherwise alright, "hey."

Assan's Zevran looked him over before giving the small elf a smile and a small laugh of relief, "hey, yourself."

"Demons are gone, and all is safe again," I agreed, "isn't that fantastic?"

"As fantastic as things can ever be," Fenris huffed, putting his blade away and looking me over, "you alright?"

"My armor will need stitched up, but you know how hard it is to get a wound to stick on me," I smiled, sliding my staff into its holder, "and you?"

"Fine," Fenris nodded.

"Good, good. Then that means we can talk about how I totally killed more demons than you did."

"Whoa, now!" Bannon shook his head as he overheard, "I got the most points."

"Do beheadings get extra points?"

"How about when I took out a whole bunch all at once!?" I crossed my arms, pride swelling in my chest.

"Magic doesn't count," Warden Zevran decided.

"You just made that up!"

"Did I?" Warden Zevran smiled and shrugged, "maybe."

Fenris scoffed before turning towards the Captain, crossing his arms in a clear display of forcing the conversation to order, "you have people from our world trapped down here. If any of these demons had gotten out or managed to possess somebody, we could have had an abomination problem, and your world has no Templars. No way of dealing with it should it have come up."

"We made a mistake," Owen butted in, "none of you have ever told us about bloody demons and abominations, whatever the hell those are, or how your mages worked. We didn't know. That's why you need to tell us these things."

"Oh?" I frowned, turning a death stare on the doctor, "yes, uh, I just met you, and this is crazy, but mages can be possessed and go crazy. Yes, I don't think that would have gone over all that well."

"Where are my people?"

We all turned, the sound of the Inquisitor's voice catching our attention. Revas looked pale, now that I had time to actually look at him, and he was covered in sweat; his eyes flickered over us, pausing on Assan, but it didn't seem to really register. The Inquisitor's eyes were cloudy, but he seemed to be recovering, slowly but surely. Jack hadn't forced him back into the unconsciousness he had somehow forced the elf into, and the elf's head was no doubt clearing up.

"They're fine," Jack told him, and the elf's eyes landed on the captain, "you're in one of the halls for the more violent prisoners."

"What an honor," Revas gave the captain a dark smile before the elf turned his focus onto me; his entire demeanor changed, slumping against his cell as he gave me a tired smile, "Hawke. You saved me."

I smiled back and moved to let him out, but Tosh stepped in to block me from the panel. My smile changed, growing ice cold. Noticing the change in my stance, Fenris moved his hand over his shoulder to grab the hilt of his sword in warning.

"You're not keeping him in there," I smiled at her, "I'm letting him out."

"You can't," Tosh told me, "that's not our call. Jack's in charge of Torchwood."

I turned my attention to Assan, but he didn't seem to be taking much interest in the situation, "Assan, you know it's the right thing to do to let the Inquisitor out, don't you?"

"Inquisitor?" Assan perked up, lifting an eyebrow and glancing at Revas, but he didn't seem to recognize his own son. His eyes flickered from Jack to Revas and back again, but the elf said nothing more.

"Jack is not in charge of us," Assan's Zevran crossed his arms, "that's for sure."

"Last I knew, you weren't even supposed to be out of the cell I put you in."

"If Revas just tells you what he told me, then maybe you'd see that he's not the bad guy here," I pointed out, cutting in before we all fell to fists and blades, "just promise to hear him out."

Jack held his hand up for silence, staring Revas down, "fine. You want an audience? You've got it."

Revas sighed and sat down on the bench in his cell, kicking his feet up against the wall, "well, it's better than being swarmed by demons, isn't it? Very well, Torchwood. Now, how much do you know about the magisters we can thank for the Blights?"


	20. Chapter 20

-Assan-

 _"You will look Death in the eyes. Take his hand, and he will give you life again. But Death cannot change his nature. In the end, it will be he who kills you."_

 _I laughed in the fortune teller's face, "see, this is why I don't believe in seers and their prophecys. They're too convoluted to be true. You read the tells you're given, more expertly than most. But I do. I read tells, too. Did you see that, so called prophet? I'll let him kill me."_

 _Had I not been an elf, I wouldn't have heard what she mumbled when I left._

 _"With not a single protest, so shall it will be."_

 _I paused, glancing back, "see? You're wrong, tricked into thinking that death would be able to take me without a fight. You can't fool me with your so called fortunes."_

 _The fortune teller tapped her long fingers against her table, "violent lives lead to violent deaths, my dear, devoid of the possibility for a peaceful end. But even in death, you will not find peace."_

* * *

I woke up with a start, blinking in confusion as I struggled to recall the dream. Too late. It had already slipped through my fingers, leaving only the feeling that it was something important to remember.

I let my eyes drift slowly across the room I was in, gaze catching on the bathroom door. It seemed to draw me in, and I hadn't realized I had even shifted when Zevran's chest shifted against my back.

"Mi amor," Zevran's voice purred in my ear, "the sun is not yet up. We should follow its example, no?"

I settled down and twisted around to face him, ignoring his slight complaint as I ruined the comfortable spooning we had going on. He smiled when I kissed the tip of his nose, though, and I smiled back.

"I don't feel tired, Zev," I whispered.

"Then why not just take comfort in the feeling of being here?"

"What if I don't want to be here?"

Zevran's arms tensed around me, "what is wrong with here? Your family is here. I'm here."

Something… something doesn't feel right," I admitted, "something's… something's wrong. But I don't- I don't know what it is."

Zevran sighed and sat up a bit, the blankets pooling around his bare waist, the moonlight shining in lighting up the room enough to see, despite the dim quality of the lighting. "Assan-"

"Please, I just- I need," I shook my head, grabbing my ears and digging my nails in, "something's wrong with me, Zevran."

"Wrong? With you? But I think you're absolutely perfect, my dearest Warden," Zev lifted my chin with a single finger as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against mine as he used his free hand to free my ears from the painful grip I had on them. I let him, sighing as he moved his kisses down my mouth and down my neck.

"Wait," I put my hand on his shoulder when he moved a hand down lower, "Zev, stop."

He pulled away, leaving me cold from the sudden lack of body heat beside me. He gave me a slight pout, "is something wrong?"

"Are my ears ugly? Do you think they look weird?"

"Ugly?" Zev frowned, "I see nothing wrong with your ears. They're just as they've always been. I think they're cute."

I reached up, brushing the tips of my finger over the pointed tip of his ear, "I like yours more. They're… they seem more normal."

"Normal?" Zev laughed, "for an elf, perhaps, but you would look quite odd as an elf, Assan."

I looked down and away.

"I… think you look quite handsome for a human," Zev gave me a soft smile, "why would I want you any other way than who you are?"

"But I… I just.. what if what I am doesn't feel like what I should be?"

"What nonsense are you speaking?"

I scowled and turned around, "nothing. Forget it."

Usually he would have tried to inquire further, but instead he laid back down and pulled me closer and wrapped his bare legs back around mine. It kind of hurt. Had I made him angry? I was relieved not to have to argue, but it was odd of him to drop it so quickly, and I felt ashamed for feeling hurt in the first place. What was I? A needy child?

"I'm getting up," I decided, not able to stand the gnawing wrongness itching at my ears. I grabved his arms and moved them off of me and out my way before I reached for the covers.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be back."

Maybe.

The wooden floor was cold against my bare feet, but I ignored it in favor of grabbing a pair of linen pants from the floot to avoid travelling around my family's castle in the nude. I grabbed the candle off the nightstand and moved away from the bed towards the bathroom. The door almost seemed to beckon me onwards, and I was more than willing to follow it.

"Mi amor," Zev's hand was warm on my shoulder, warmer than the cold that seemed to soak the air, "come back to bed."

"But-"

"For me?"

I relented, "of course. I'd do anything for you. Even if it's something as stupid as sleeping in."

"Ah, but is sleeping in something to complain about? Besides.. I'm a bit awake now. Would you disagree that there's.. more than one use for a bed?"

I smiled as he took my hand and led me back towards the bed, "I.. I suppose not."

* * *

-Hawke-

"Hawke," Assan was smiling as he grabbed my hand, "Hawke, darling, I'm bored. So bored. Let's go do something fun!"

"Something fun?" Bannon was laying on a table, head hanging over the side, "a supposed to be dead magister- one of the ones we can thank for the Blight, I might add- is destroying your universe and you want to go do something fun?"

Assan laughed, a light and happy sound that had me frowning at him, "work is being so slow! I want to go have fun! Ooh, what about a tavern?"

"A tavern?" Bannon raised an eyebrow at the other elf, "whatever will we do?" His smirk was a sharp contrast to his seemingly uninterested wording.

"Get drunk all night," Warden Zevran suggested, "the Torchwooders-"

Assan giggled, "wooders."

"-are all home and gone, besides Ianto and Jack, of course, and nothing can be done with Revas and his crew until morning when Jack makes up his mind about what the elf told us."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around Gaspard being emperor of Orlais," Fenris spoke up, "the way he looked when he told us about the events that took place, it's astonishing that he let Celene live with how much the Dalish elf seems to hate her."

"Of course he would hate her," Bannon said, "she's slaughtered Dalish and purged Alienages. I would have let her die."

"You? Oh, no, no, you're not the type to stand by and watch somebody be brutally murdered," I teased the elf, "you'd have killed her yourself."

"Aww, look, Zev, she gets me."

Warden Zevran (at least I'm assuming that it is the Warden one) snorted, "looks like you've got a profound bond."

Dead silence.

"Supernatural?" he inquired after a moment, "nobody?"

"I don't understand that reference," Bannon deadpanned. The two elves both suddenly started cracking up, but I wasn't sure what was so funny.

"Drinking?" Fenris raised an eyebrow and glanced at me, "as long as Hawke makes sure to keep it in moderation, I'm game."

"Shut up, you alcoholic."

"I am not an alcoholic."

"No, you just drink a lot."

"Moderation's for losers!" Assan cheered, jumping onto one of the tables and plopping his butt down, legs hanging over the edge of it, "so we're going!? We're going, right!?"

"Are you sure you're not already drunk?" Bannon flopped over onto his stomach, leaning his chin on his arms as he fixated his gaze on the other elf, "whatever you've gotten into, I want some."

"Come on, come on! Thedas night!"

"Thedas night!" I whooped, "I'm in!"

Assan beamed at the chorus of agreement, "fantastic!"

"Oh! Remember not to murder anyone," Warden Zevran, a

t least the one most likely to be Warden Zevran, told us, "Jack gets annoyed."

"They had it coming," Bannon grumbled.

"I'm going to go find some party clothes," Assan smiled, kicking his feet, "are you going to get some party clothes, Hawke? It will be like a girls night!"

"I'm the only girl here, Assan," I laughed, "and I'm not really a dressy girl. I'm fine with my armor."

"I, well, I.." Assan shrugged, not seeming to really care, "you know, I meant as in like a girls night but for those of us from Thedas. Different ones, and the Inquisitioners are not coming, but you get what I mean."

"I am up for girls night," Warden Zevran said. Or was it Assan's Zevran? Maker's breath, I can't keep track of who's who.

"As am I," the other Zevran, whichever one he was, agreed.

"Would it kill you two to wear different clothes from each other?" I interrupted the conversation, "how am I supposed to tell the Zevrans apart?"

"Not relevant," one of them smirked, "and we do it to piss you off, sweetheart."

"So you're the Warden one."

He gaped at me, "how did you know?"

"My hate-o-meter; it's quite the talent."

"The glowy one scares me," the other Zevran told him, "I would have never called her sweetheart."

"Now you took all the fun out of it," I pouted, getting up, "now are we going to go have fun or are we going to sit here and be boring?"

"Fun!" Assan cheered, hopping off the table and grabbing Bannon's arm, pulling the other Warden off the table and onto his feet so quickly it seemed to surprise everyone but Assan, "Bannon! You must know a good place! Where should we go?"

"Zevran and I saw a place the other day we can go to, but they don't really have taverns like the kind back home," Bannon told us, "not as many bar fights, and it's harder to get away with murder. And they call them pubs."

"Sounds boring," Assan pouted.

"He's smol, not helpless," Warden Zevran slung an arm around Bannon's shoulders, "he's a Dalish warrior, mi amor, not some alienage tot… no matter how childish the tiny elf may seem. He can just bat his eyes at Jack and the captain wouldn't even get mad! Mmm, imagine all the trouble we could get into with him to keep Jack off our backs."

"Hey!" Assan crossed his arms, "I'm not small. You didn't even pronounce it right!"

"And he was a hunter, not a warrior," Fenris said, frowning at Assan when his back was turned away from us, "I'm surprised that wasn't the first thing you clarified. I thought Dalish were proud of their roles within.." Fenris paused, gaze focusing sharply on Assan, "…within their tribes."

The look of disdain Assan shot at Fenris flickered over his face so quickly I wasn't quite sure if I had really seen it or not.

"Grey Wardens are warriors, are we not? It slipped my mind," Assan said, waving his hand dismissively, "can you blame me? It's been years since I've been anything but a Warden, and a Warden is what I will remain."

Fenris narrowed his eyes at the elf, but Assan was already turning, grabbing his Zevran by the arm and pulling him along, babbling something about getting ready. I narrowed my eyes a little, too, watching the elf leave, but though Assan's Zevran didn't seem worried, I hadn't missed how he seemed to relax the same way as someone might tense up.

"I called it a tribe," Fenris pointed out.

"And he didn't even correct you," Bannon glanced the way Assan had left, "something's up."

"But is it just Assan being Assan or is something wrong?" Warden Zevran hummed, tilting his head, "I don't really know him that well."

"Wait," I sat up so quickly I almost hit Fenris on the nose, "where's Barkspawn? He's always right next to Assan."

"Already asked," Warden Zevran said, not looking too concerned, "said he's trying something new. He said Barkspawn's around somewhere. He's probably with wherever yours went."

"Assan and Barkspawn not in the same room at all times?" I frowned, looking off down the hall, "maybe something is wrong. And where is Bird? I'm starting to get worried."

"Or he's already drunk."

"Yeah, or drunk. Or, you know, one of his episode things he seems to have. Owen could probably look into that."

"Not up to us," I said, "we'd better catch up. I want to see what kind of a drunk Assan is."

The flirty kind, it seemed, as he soon proved when we got there.

Assan downed a couple bottles worth and disappeared onto the dance floor before the rest of us had barely finished our first few rounds. I caught a glimpse of him making out with some girl out on the dance floor and shook my head at him as he danced to the music, quickly collecting a sort of happy pile around himself made up of boys and girls alike. Was he really drunk already?

"This doesn't seem like any tavern I've ever seen!" I turned at the bar and shouted to Bannon, hoping the elf could hear me over the pounding beat of the music.

"It's something called a club!" he shouted back, "funner than a pub!"

"I can tell!"

"It's loud!"

"Definetly!"

"Haven't seen anybody good looking!" Bannon turned his head, smugly locking his gaze with the Zevran beside him.

"Hey!" Bannon's Zevran punched him in the arm, causing the other elf to cry out and punch him, already snapping out an 'I was just kidding' at his lover.

Or maybe it was something about rice pudding; I'm not the best lip reader and he had stepped a step back from me to stick his tongue at Zevran.

I turned away, bumping shoulders with Fenris. He looked a tad uncomfortable, so I nodded towards the emptiest corner. He seemed a little bit better once we reached it.

"I'm not sure I'm drunk enough for all this," the corners of his mouth twitched up as he glanced down at me.

"Same here," I responded, "would remind me of the Hanged Man on busy nights if not for the lights. I think they're giving me a migraine."

The sharp sound of someone getting punched pierced through the music, quickly followed by the startled cries of humans near the site.

"Can things go right at least once? At least one good night?" Fenris cursed, already standing up as he looked over, "which one is it this time? Yours?"

"Assan's," Bannon answered without even needing to look as he took a sip of his drink, "my Zev is over there playing pool. And winning, I might add."

"Ugh," I snapped back my shot and stood up as I placed it on the counter, ignoring Fenris' reminder about Jack having told me not to use magic in public. What I saw when I stood up nearly made me drop right back into my seat, and I heard Bannon's sharp intake of breath as he turned to look, too.

Assan was clutching his nose across the club, eyes widened and mouth gaping as everyone went silent as the music played on uncaring. Red dripped from between his fingers and, as my eyes landed on him, his attacker moved in again, slamming the small elf against the wall as humans screamed and cleared a space, allowing me to see who was attacking the Warden.

Zevran.

Zevran was attacking Assan.


	21. Chapter 21

-Amare-

It was beautiful. An entire club of drunken, hormone riddled humans, all pumped up on music and alcohol and, for some, various drugs.

It was almost hilarious how easily I could wrap them around my mental fingers, grabbing hold of their minds laughably easily and pulling them closer.

I felt alive, in the throng of dancers. I felt alive in the way their bodies felt against mine as we all bounced to the music. I felt alive in the way their warm tongues wrapped around mine when I kissed them. I felt alive in the way my body felt warm and fuzzy from the alcohol. I felt alive-

The woman kissing my neck was ripped away from me. She whipped around, anger clear across her face as the beginning of a yell formed in the way of her opening mouth, but the elf she faced had the expression of a killer, and she quickly blanched and cleared the area.

The elf moved forward, shoving and pushing, quickly clearing some breathing room. He turned dark eyes on me afterwards, while the ones who'd been grinding around me continued dancing while keeping a wary eye on the one person radiating danger.

I wasn't afraid. It kind of even turned me on, in a way. I've come across many dreams and dreamers, and some of the more naive dreamers relish in the idea of someone who wouldn't want to share.

I was not naive, and knew from the nightmares of some dreamers that possesive significant others were rarely, if ever, something one would want in a partner if they're too possesive; but there is none who could keep me from leaving when I've had my fill, and since Assan has never desired to leave the relationship he has with the other elf, I felt it safe to say Zevran was not the overbearing type.

"Come to join the party?" I purred and grabbed his biceps, happy to explore his solid biceps with my new hands and relishing in the beating of my new heart in my ears and the way the music seemed to resonate in my chest. My living, breathing chest.

Zevran tilted his head down, tipping my head up to him with a single finger below my chin, and kissed me. I kissed back, heartbeat quickening as I strained to deepen it. I had thought I had felt alive before, but this!

He was obviously more experienced than the clubbers around us, and when he broke away, he ducked his head over and grabbed the tip of my sensitive ear in his teeth and flicked his tongue across it ; I gladly voiced my appreciation with a hearty moan.

Zevran broke away almost immediately, gaze burning into my own as if he was looking into and through me. I pouted, confused as to why he looked so sad.

It happened so quickly and with so little warning that I didn't even realize it had happened. I'd heard the crack, sure, and felt my face explode in pain as people screamed around us, and yet somehow it didn't register. I stared at Zevran, honestly and truly shocked as I lifted my hands and tried to stop the blood now gushing from my nose. It was broken, that was for sure, but not enough for a good dose of healing magic to have issue with fixing it without leaving a scar.

He didn't give me time to catch up with the situation; Zevran slammed me against the wall, pinning me with his larger body. I spat out a curse, understanding that the ruse was up, and bared my host's teeth at the elf.

"Leave him, demon," the elf growled, baring his teeth right back.

"I'll leave a corpse," I growled, "get off of me."

"He's still alive," he argued, "I know he is. Leave him. Now."

"This is MY life, now!" I snarled, throwing myself against his grip. Somehow, he kept his footing and kept me pinned. I relaxed, ceasing my struggle, and gave him the sweetest smile I could muster despite the blood dripping down my face and soaking us both red, "what gave me away?"

"Many things," Zevran answered, "Assan is my best friend as well as my lover. I know him better than anyone: he's proud of his heritage, never goes anywhere without Barkspawn, is only attracted to guys, and hell, I could go on all fucking day. You weren't even trying to blend in."

"Barkspawn," I grinned, "is that one of the stupid mutts I skinned and left to dry? He'll make a nice coat."

His face twisted in fury, but the others had caught up by now.

"Guys!" I gave them a wide eyes look of fear, "I-I don't know what's wrong! I was just having fun and then-then-"

"Don't listen to it," Zevran snarled, "Assan got possessed during the battle with the demons."

They all stiffened, looking at me with wary glares. Shit.

Well, you know what they say. If you're losing the game, it's time to mix it up.

I grabbed hold of my vessel's form and twisted it. Zevran's breath hitched as I smiled sweetly up at him.

"Like what you see?" I giggled.

"Change back," he growled, "change him back, now!"

"Change her back, you mean?"my grin grew, and I pressed against his hold, my voice practically a purr, "are you sure? The change didn't come with a bra. Are they not big enough? This is how you've always imagined them."

"Change! Him! Back!"

"I can see your deepest, darkest desires, naughty boy," I batted my eyes at him, "how, sometimes, you let the thought of what if cross your mind, late in the night or deep in the throes of passion. What if Assan was female? Females are what you prefer, aren't they? This is how you always pictured him as a her, isn't it? I know. I know you! Just as much as I knew his desires!"

His breathing was coming quicker, and I could feel his entire body trembling against me. His eyes glistened with tears he dared not let fall. Was I getting to him? Mmmm, I was. His barriers were faltering in his shame, in his utter refusal to accept the truth of his desires. How easy to just reach into his mind and-

* * *

-Hawke-

"It's not going to be out for long," I warned, slumping against the wall. I hadn't expected it to be that hard to do, but knocking it out with such a strong burst of spirit magic had surprisingly taken a lot from me.

"What did you do?" Zevran glared at me, clutching Assan's limp body in his arms, "what did you do!?"

"Just knocked it out," I assured him as Fenris helped me up, "we'll get it in a cell back at Torchwood and figure out what to do from there."

"Don't call him an it," Zevran's entire body seemed to droop as he cradled the limp form in his arms, "Assan's still in there."

"I'll take her…uh, him," Warden Zevran stepped forward; Zev didn't fight, just sunk to his knees as Assan was taken from him. Warden Zevran stared at his counterpart, frowning, but for once was uncharacteristically silent as he turned and started for the door. Fenris and I shared a look before I patted his shoulder and pushed away. Satisfied that I could stand on my own, Fenris followed the Warden out.

If the demon woke up before they could get it in a cell…

Well, we both knew what had to be done.

"I'll give them all the mind wiper thingy," Bannon huffed, sparing a glance as his fellow Warden left before nodding towards Zev, who hadn't moved from where he'd sunk to the floor, "can't let word of this getting out. Care to zap their phones?"

"Back to business, I suppose," I said, turning to look towards the crowd, "spike the drinks. Nobody leaves remembering this. I'll… I'll take care of the tech."

Tech. What an odd word. It still felt foreign on my tongue.

I stalled for a few moments, letting my magic replenish a little before I sent out a small burst of magic to get a sense of the room. Bannon was shouting something about free rounds, and while everyone was distracted I let my fingers spark. I drew what I needed from the air and kept going, sucking every ounce of electricity out of the room to power it. I waited until Bannon had made sure to get any who hadn't gone for the free drinks, and once he gave me the all clear I emptied the bolt into the wall.

The music, which had just been turned back on a little bit ago now that things had settled, sputtered out almost instantly. A collective groan filled the club as the music stopped and the lights flickered off.

"Come on," I reached down and pulled Zev up to his feet, "time to go."

"I should have noticed."

"Nobody noticed."

"But I should have."

"You did."

"But was it soon enough?"

I sighed and grabbed his hand, pulling him through the crowd. He didn't struggle as I pulled him out of the club.

"We'll help he- we'll help him, Zevran," I said, "Assan is going to be fine."

"My mi amor could fight the archdemon with one hand tied behind his back," Zev boasted, face still downcast, but at least he was making an attempt.

"Funny," I shrugged as we stepped out into the cold night, Zev's hand warm in mine as Bannon stepped out beside us, closing the door behind him.

"What's funny?"

"Zevran here was just telling me a version of the Hero of Ferelden tale that I can't say I've had the pleasure of hearing before."

Zev let out a bark of a laugh as he pulled his hand free from mine, "oh, ho! It was quite the sight, I assure you!"

"Mhm," Bannon raised an eyebrow, "and which version is this?"

"The one where Assan killed the archdemon and then we made fervent lov-"

"That's enough," I said, clasping my hand over the former Crow's mouth. A wet tongue licked at my hand, but I only raised an eyebrow at him, "I had two younger siblings, Zev, tongue on my hand isn't going to take me down."

He seemed a bit more like Zevran, though, which was good enough for me.

There were voices talking in the Hub already, when we got there. Jack was leaning against one of the desks in the Hub, seeming to be talking to Fenris and Warden Zevran. Assan...well... the demon must have already been put into a cell, considering its absence. As we walked in, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that almost looked like a person, but when I turned to look there was nothing there.

Shrugging it off, I turned to face Jack, who looked up as our small trio entered. Jack looked like he wasn't quite ready for this sort of thing so late at night, even though I've never actually seen him seem tired. Although... it did seem more of a mental exhaustion than a physical one.

"Already wiped the club," Bannon spoke up before Jack even had a chance to speak, "don't worry. We're responsible."

Warden Zevran snickered, but cut off with a sharp cry when Bannon punched him in the shoulder with an audible thud.

"We saw them come in," Ianto said, handing a fresh pot of coffee to Jack as he stepped down to join us in the Hub, "Assan was... still unconscious."

"I'd hope so," I said, "knocking the demon out took more power than I'm comfortable admitting. I'm not sure if I could pull it off again, now that the demon will be expecting it. Will the cell be able to hold it?"

"Can anything hold a demon?" Fenris growled.

"We need a solution," Jack said; he took a long sip of his coffee, eyes landing on Zev, "how do you guys get rid of these things back where you come from?"

We all went silent, nobody seeming quite able to meet anybody else's gaze. The answer hung in the air between us like a disease.

Warden Zevran sighed, finally, after a few long moments; he turned to his counterpart, expression serious for once.

"I'll do it if you can't."

Zev's voice hitched, but he didn't answer, and I tried to ignore how Ianto had suddenly tensed, his grip going white on the handle of the cup of coffee he had made for himself, or how a mask of cold acceptance fell over Jack's face, as if the idea wasn't the sort he was unfamiliar with.

"Let's not jump straight to that," I said, clenching my eyes shut and trying to pretend that this wasn't happening, to pretend that we weren't seriously considering... the image flashed across the back of my eyelids, Assan bouncing around the Hub with that lopsided, dorky grin that was so often on his face. That fond look on Fenris's face when he looked at the small elf like Assan was the little sibling he never got to have. Not a good one at least. Or how crushed Zev looked, staring at the wall with Assan's blood still drying on his hands. How calm Jack seemed, watching this all, like the idea of killing one of our own was just an average Tuesday. How could death ever be normal? Haven't I lost enough already? Just when I was starting to think of the scrawny elf as a friend. No. No, please tell me we weren't considering...

"We have no lyrium," Fenris said, quietly, "Hawke is our only mage. There... there is nothing we can do... except put it down."

"He's not an it," I argued, "he's Assan! He's... he's Assan."

"He's not a kid, Hawke," Warden Zevran said, looking at me, "he's... well, he's not even a he right now."

"We can't just kill him!" I snapped at the elf and turned to Zev, waving my arms at him, "tell them, Zev! He's Assan! Sweet... sweet little Assan. He's a dork. He's weird, and a dork... but he's our weird dork! Can you really imagine the Hub with-with-without him running around with that big, dorky smile on his face? Or- or when he's rambling on about something he likes, or when you just can't help but want to be his friend, hell, that's probably why he managed to get so many allies during the Blight! I mean, who the hell lets somebody who tried to kill them just immediately join their group, let alone the fact that he even went as far as to fall in love with the guy they sent to kill him -no offense, Zev- and he just seems so trusting sometimes and-"

Fenris's hand felt heavy on my shoulder. Too heavy.

"Assan isn't Bethany, Hawke. Saving him isn't going to bring your little sister back."

I reached up and grabbed the hand he'd placed on my shoulder; I rubbed my thumb along the his calloused hand.

"I know," I admitted, biting back the heavy lump already forming in my throat; I looked up, trying to rid myself of the weight behind my eyes, "I never said it would. Tonight... tonight was supposed to be fun. Things were supposed to go right, Fenris. Why can't things ever go right for us?"

"We have mages."

I'm not sure how Jack didn't drop his coffee mug; he spilled it, that's for sure, and spat up a mouthful of it right onto his pants, and yet the mug never ended up slipping from his grasp. Ianto's, on the other hand, ended up shattered on the floor, only serving to rile us up even more than the sudden new voice had. We all whipped around, already all reaching for our weapons, but found ourselves pausing at the sight before us. Jack did not pause, bringing his gun out all the way and pointing it right at the young man -was he a kid? a teen?- that was sitting on Tosh's desk and kicking his feet off the side, as if he'd been in the Hub all of his life and was simply meant to be sitting there.

"How the hell did you get out?" Jack snapped out.

The kid didn't stop kicking his feet, but he looked up at us. I could barely see his eyes under the brim of his huge hat and the stringy blonde hair that fell in his eyes and surrounded his head.

"The glass didn't mind," the boy told us, "it gets lonely, and sad. Nobody ever stops to talk to it; not nicely, at least. It doesn't like being yelled at, and sometimes it gets hit a lot."

"Shit," Jack grumbled out, "you're that creepy one who snapped demon elf off the deep end by twisting my thoughts into your own messed up little words, aren't you?"

The look on his face almost seemed like a pout.

"The Inquisitor isn't a demon elf," the boy said, "demons can be elves, but elves cannot be demons."

"Cause that makes sense," Jack said, voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

"Like possession?" Bannon spoke up, "demons can possess elves, but elves can't just be demons."

The boy smiled at Bannon before turning his attention back to Jack, "exactly. The Inquisitor is very nice. He worries a lot. You made him scared, is all. He's very nice if you're nice first. He let me stay, when so many others told him to tell me to go."

"Uh-huh," Jack nodded, not sounding too impressed, "cute story, kid. Now let's get you back in a cell. Maybe a sturdier one, this time."

His eyes widened, alarmed, "but I want to help!"

"Help?" Ianto put his hand on Jack's shoulder, shooting the captain a look that I couldn't read, "help how?"

The boy tilted his head at us, still kicking his feet as he seemed to calm, "I helped the Inquisitor with Envy. That was before Envy had a tight grip, but Envy was stronger than a desire demon."

Zev spoke up; desperation lurked in the way he held himself, but his voice was strong, "you can help us?"

"My name is Cole," the boy nodded, "and I just want to help. You all felt so sad, I couldn't help but come up to see if I could do anything to help you feel better."

Ianto and Jack shared another look, and Jack slowly lowered his gun; he didn't click off the safety or put it away, but he wasn't aiming it at Cole, anymore, either.

"What exactly do you have in mind?"


	22. Chapter 22

-Assan-

"And so Assan opens up his first Crow assignment, right? And he just.. stares at it for a couple minutes. Both I and the Crow are staring, getting nervous as the seconds pass. And then Assan finally looks up and he says- pfft- he- he says-" Zevran burst into laughter.

"And I say," I grinned, lost in the memory, "but, sir, I have already killed this man!"

"You should have seen the man's face!" Graves hit the table, already cackling harder than he had when it had happened.

"Already dead. Impressive. Elf is more of a wildcard than I had thought."

I didn't know that voice.

I froze, the fork I had been lifting to my mouth dropping from my hand. It clattered against my plate, and the room delved into silence, a few people still wiping tears of laughter from their faces.

"Something wrong, darling?" mother asked me.

I drew my mouth into a crooked grin, "no, mother, of course not."

"You surprised him. Impressed him. He misjudged you, even though it is rare that someone takes him by surprise."

I looked up. My eyes met the eyes of the boy standing in the shadows on the other side of the room; even then, his large hat and stringy blonde hair almost hid his face from me.

Zevran looked in the direction I was looking, but soon looked back to me, "are you alright? What is wrong?"

"Nothing," I assured him, placing my silverware down and scooting backwards in my seat. The sound of the wooden legs scraping against the floor sounded loud and awkward in the near silent room, "my stomach is hurting is all. I'm going to take an early night."

Zevran moved to get up, but I put my hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Don't skip your own dinner on my account, my love," I whispered to him, leaning down to his ear, "finish eating. Talk a little."

"Are you sure?"

"Certainly. Are you alright, though? You've seemed clingy lately."

"Just don't want you going somewhere you're not supposed to," he whispered back, eyes narrowing, "I'll finish eating, if you're so worried, but I'll be in to join you for bed shortly. Just to make sure you're alright."

I smiled and patted his shoulder instead of answering as I straightened.

"Don't puke on mother's floor," Graves laughed, "she'd never let you hear the end of it."

"Graves Cousland!" Mother reached across the table, just to smack him, "we are eating! Fully grown and yet still a child!"

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me. I almost sat back down at the table, but the boy moved in the corner of my eye. Curiosity getting the better of me, I turned and approached him, following as he turned and slipped out into the hall.

The boy stopped some ways away from the dining room, and turned to face me. Closer, I could see that he seemed old enough to be a teenager, but couldn't possibly be much older than twenty, his face smooth and free of any scar or blemish. His eyes seemed sunken, so that looking at him made me feel like I was talking to a corpse. But when he opened his mouth and began to talk, his voice was just as warm and soft as when he had first spoken, back in the hall.

"Hello."

"They didn't hear you, didn't see you."

"No. Easier here than there, where things stay real."

I stared at the odd man before me for a long moment, "who are you?"

"My name is Cole."

"Cole," I tested the name on my tongue, "Cole. How did you get in here? What do you want?"

"I want to help," Cole told me, tilting his head, "I am here to help."

"Help?"

"Help you," he nodded.

I smiled at the kid, "you're cute, kid, but I'm okay. I don't need any help."

The kid's face twisted into a frown, but it quickly faded into the most determined expression I have ever seen. He held his hand out to me, palm up, but said nothing more. He raised his head, the hair falling back, and leveled his full stare on me. My breath caught as he looked me dead in the eyes.

My gaze flickered to his outstretched hand; I lifted my own hand and reached forward, hesitating before my fingers could brush his.

Grab it. It's right there.

A bright laugh cut through the silence.

I looked back, glancing over my shoulder.

Graves had been caught feeding Barkspawn beneath the table again, and mother was already scolding him for it while father laughed. Graves gave her one of his sheepish smiles, like the one we'd both give her whenever we were caught taking one of the cook's pies from the windowsill. Father was trying to stifle his grin, but Zevran was already laughing. Barkspawn's stub of a tail was going wild, tongue already lolling out of his mouth as he bounced around. I felt my own mouth turn up into a grin at the sight of them all.

My hand fell back to my side.

I turned my back to the strange boy and moved to step away. I could hear their laughing. I wanted to rejoin dinner, wanted to rejoin my family.

I belong here.

"Do you?" the boy asked, voice soft from where he stood behind me, "do you truly feel at peace?"

Graves seemed to notice me then, and he gave me a bright, beaming grin. It would put the sun, itself, to shame, I'm sure.

"Assan!" Graves called to me, waving his hand towards mother, "Barkspawn saved us from a dragon! He deserves at least some of our food, too, don't you think!?"

I laughed and opened my mouth to reply, but it died in my throat. Somebody had grabbed onto my shoulder, but they were taller than I was. The boy had been about the same height.

I turned my head and looked up, blinking as I stared into dark eyes. Familiar, and yet….

The elf stared down at me, his eyes burning into me. I would have figured him for a servant, but a blood red tattoo took up half his face, with branch like tendrils stretching over the other half.

Dalish.

I winced, breath catching in my throat.

Not a tattoo.

Vallaslin.

Elgar'nan, the God of Vengeance. That… that was his vallaslin design on this elf's face.

My chest… it hurt. My face felt wet, and the liquid that dripped onto my lips tasted salty: tears.

Tears? Why was I crying?

The elf's expression softened, that stern nouth drifting upwards into the tiniest of smiles. It was the smile of someone who didn't smile much, especially considering the frown lines that seemed as engraved onto his face as the vallaslin.

I turned around to face him, looking up at him. He hadn't yet released my shoulder, but he shifted his grip in response to me turning around.

He licked his lips as he swallowed, his eyes gleaming. He.. he looked like he was about to cry, too.

"It's time to go home."

I moved to glance back, but the elf caught my face between his hands and leaned his forehead against my own.

"There is nothing you can do that could make me disappointed in you," the familiar stranger told me, "I am so, so proud of you."

"Assan!" mother called for me, "are you going to come get dessert?"

The elf said, his forehead warm against my own, "you always seem to get yourself into trouble, don't you, da'len?"

A sob escaped me; I lunged forward without even thinking, wrapping my arms around him.

"N-Nikalle? Papa?"

His arms wrapped around me, returning my desperate hug. I clung to him.

I probably looked like a child, sobbing and gasping and clinging to him, but I didn't care.

"HE'S MINE!" the world around me seemed to tremble at the inhuman scream that pierced the air.

Nikalle let go. I clung to him desperately, but he gently pulled my hands away. He smiled, then, and ruffled my hair.

"It's alright, da'len," he promised me, "run."

The boy offered his hand again.

I grabbed it.

* * *

-Hawke-

It seemed to only take a couple seconds. The boy, Cole, placed his fingers lightly, almost tentatively, against Assan's forehead before the elf's eyes shot open.

The demon who had caused all of this trouble materialized, too. It made the mistake of making its reappearance within Bannon's reach, and the elf had run it through before it could even open its mouth to scream at us.

Cole caught the elf as he/she/um, Assan, shot up from the metal seat in the cell, wide eyes blinking open and shut with the same speed and ferocity as my phone had when I had tossed it into the bath to see what would happen. The boy was whispering into Assan's ear, words that I couldn't make out, but whatever he said seemed to calm the elf. Assan took careful breaths, slowing down, and Assan's gaze turned onto us. Cole gave a gentle nod of his head, so slight that only the wide brim of his hat seemed to tip.

Jack nodded to Ianto; the man opened the cell.

Assan looked confused, gaze wandering; the elf's gaze turned down on himself, looking at the new curves, but what his eyes told him didn't seem to click. He reached his hands up, slowly, to his ears, curling his fingers around them and rubbing the pointed tips. From there, his hands moved to his hair, which honestly hadn't changed at all. It was still cropped short. His hands moved back to his ears.

"Assan," Zev moved into the cell slowly, settling down next to the elf just as carefully. His movements were slow as he reached up, grabbing Assan's hands in his own, and tugged them gently down to Assan's lap.

Assan's gaze lifted to Zev's and held it for a long moment. The ex-Crow leaned forward, movements still sluggish, still careful, and pulled the Dalish elf into a hug, digging his head into the crook of the shorter elf's neck. Assan stiffened for only a moment before hesitantly moving his hands up, clinging to Zevran. A careful breath in. A careful breath out. Everything was silent. Even the few aliens in the nearby cells seemed to have nothing to say or roar about.

And then, all at once, Assan's breathing shot into a sharp gasp and inhale. His hands tightened on Zevran's shirt and he pulled the elf ever closer, diving deeper into the embrace.

This was not a moment for us. I grabbed Fenris' hand in my own and pulled him away with a gentle tug. He didn't argue, giving my hand a slight squeeze as we turned and left. Besides, I was tired, and now that everything was fine and dandy again, minus one genderbent elf, now seemed as good a time as any to skip all the awkward shit soon to come and cringe it up. If there is anything I've learned over the years, it's that letting other people explain the weird shit going on seemed to be better for everybody.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Cole break away and follow us, staring at the ground as he fiddled with his hands. The boy was odd, sure, but he had just saved Assan from a seemingly unsolvable without murder problem. Except, you know, the demon still ended up dead; but the only good demon is a dead demon, anyways. Bannon did everybody a favor, killing that thing.

"He's going to be alright," Cole said.

"Thanks, Cole," I said.

His face lifted; his eyes met mine for a second before he looked back at his hands and I turned my gaze back to the path ahead.

"He needed help," Cole said, "I like to help."

"Either way.." Fenris paused, hesitating as he eyed the boy carefully. He seemed to make up his mind, letting out a gruff huff of acceptance. "You have my gratitude."

"Thank you," the boy said, though it sounded more as if he was echoing the words before he spoke up again, "you do not give out thanks easily.."

I glanced back to see Cole turn his gaze up again.

He beamed a bright, toothy smile, "thank you!"

I returned his smile with a small smile of my own before letting it fall off my face.

"Cole..." I paused, second-guessing myself before deciding 'to hell with it' and asked anyways. I've never trusted what a demon says, and I wasn't about to start now. With how much Zevran and Assan seemed to care about each other, a simple 'he likes both but prefers girls' didn't feel like a good enough excuse. "You didn't happen to figure out what it was that Zevran had been desiring that made the demon change Assan into a.. into a girl, did you?"

Cole fiddled with his hands.

"He wanted to have a family of his own," the boy said simply, "skinny. So scrawny, beneath that armor. Sometimes I wish I could just- I love him, I love him, but what if, if. If things were different, how I would not be opposed to seeing that belly fatter, rounder-"

"Whoa, okay, now, wants a family, got it, okie-dokie," I cut the boy off as quickly as I could. I would have clamped my hand over his mouth sooner if I hadn't had to pull it from Fenris' hand first. I gave a little shiver, "Maker's hairy nutsack, kid, forget I asked. Ugh."

"Hmph," Fenris tilted his head, raising an eyebrow; the corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk, "can't say I don't see the appeal. I mean, not Assan, of course, but.."

Cole only stared at us as I pulled my hand away.

"Appeal?" a voice spoke up.

Bannon turned the corner just as I looked up, the Zevran most likely to be Warden Zevran close behind him, "what appeal?"

"Nothing."

Cole frowned, looking at Fenris as if confused, "but-"

"Ah, ah," I clamped my hand over the boy's mouth again, "that's quite enough out of you for today, thank you."

"Ah," Bannon turned to look at Cole, "what, he do his mind reading trick? Creepy isn't it?"

"I think it would be fun," Zevran said, "think of all the dirty thoughts we could listen in on!"

I let Cole go again. Fortunately, he didn't seem about to start spouting out TMI about anyone.

"So, my friend," Zevran was quick to wrap an arm around the boy's shoulders, "what am I thinking right now?"

Cole had barely gotten a couple words out before Bannon went red and socked his lover in the shoulder with such ferocity that Zevran let out a startled squawk and grabbed his sure to soon be bruised arm.

"Mi amor!"

"The fuck is wrong with you!?"

"Because it would be funny!"

"Mind beaming our first time into the head of this human kid thing is not funny!"

Fenris and I shared an exasperated look. We should have just kept walking, and we both knew it, but neither of us had good enough social skills to know if it would be rude to just make a break for it right now.

Bannon smacked Zevran away from Cole, grabbing the boy and tugging him towards him, as if trying to salvage the kid from his lover's dirty mind, "tell Zevran what I'm thinking right now!"

Cole turned innocent eyes onto the Warden, "Bannon wants you to know that he thinks you got off a bit early than you should have last time."

Or maybe not.

Zevran let out a strangled cry, looking as if somebody had just stabbed him twenty eight times.

"I'm out," I threw my hands up, whipping around. Fuck this, fuck that, I'm fucking out.

Fenris didn't argue with that either. We made our getaway while we could, leaving the elves to their argument, while they tugged Cole between them just to 'think' insults at each other. Even so, I wasn't sure how much of it was actual anger or just tired boredom.

Either way, Cole didn't seem to mind that he'd been sacrificed for the greater good.

(Phew, finally, here it is! YAY! Finally got time to finish it; and thanks for answering my 1,2 questions. They help me out a lot, especially with this chapter and the one prior.)


	23. Chapter 23

(Sorry about how long this took. I have really severe anxiety and I go through periods of emotional numbness, and the things that once brought me joy (writing, in this case) just stop mattering. And so does everything else. And I just kinda exist. Thankfully, I think this emotional numbness is coming to an end, and I hope to be able to start working back to the writer I was before. Also, I have a new job, 10 hours a day, monday thru thursday. Feeling less like a lump watching the world go by is helping me out of my slump, I think. Anyways, 7540 word chapter for you as apology for the wait!)

-Revas-

"Congratulations, it's a girl," Owen said, dropping a file onto the table Assan was sitting on. "You've got all the parts. Working parts. I suggest you take any questions regarding things it does to Hawke. Or Tosh. Or Gwen. Just not me."

I remained unnoticed in the doorway in silence, watching as Assan grabbed the file and flipped it open, frowning as he shuffled through the papers within, pausing on a paper.

"And you," Owen turned, jabbing the end of his pen at Zev, "I don't care if he's got the fuckin glittery hoohaa. Keep it in your pants. Already got enough of you bloody elves running around without adding an infestation of you fuckers to the list, got it?"

"No promises."

"I will cut your fucking dick off."

Zev stared Owen down for a moment before considering the idea that the medic might actually be serious.

"I'll do my best," Zev said.

"There's always anal," Assan assured the healer, ignoring Zev's snickers and sparing a confused glance my way at my disgusted grunt and continuing before Owen could snap at him for sassing. "This is my bloodwork?"

"Who else's?"

He looked down at it. "Do you have a copy of Bannon's or his Zevran's bloodwork?"

Owen frowned and crossed his arms, seemingly trying to stare my father down. He stared right back.

"And how do you know I even have bloodwork for them in the first place?"

"I'm nosy, I went through your stuff within the first few days," he said. "Now hand them over, will you?"

"And why would-"

"Oh, Zev!" Assan said, kicking his legs up to better achieve the most dramatic pose I have ever seen. "My glittery hoohaa needs to make an army of glittery elf children with your glittery-"

Ew.

"Do not finish that fucking sentence!" Owen clicked open his computer, already tapping his fingers against the keys as he said what I would have said had he been less than a moment later in opening his mouth. "Bloody fucking hell, here. I swear, you're going to give me an ulcer."

Assan leaned forward, serious now as he held up the papers to the screen. I looked betweem Owen and Assan. Owen was giving me a dirty look, having noticed me now, but Assan seemed to have completely forgotten about me in favor of focusing on the papers before him.

"So what's so interesting, hm?" Owen asked. "Or were you just trying to stress me out for a mo?"

Assan put his bloodwork paper down and turned to his suit, already starting to unbutton it. Zevran, who had seemed a tad bored through most of all of this, perked up as Assan pulled off the top half of his clothes. Face burning in second hand embarrassment, I averted my eyes, knowing I would be scarred for life otherwise.

"Look!" Assan said.

"Yes, yes, they're very nice," Owen said, rolling his eyes. They didn't stay away for long, already trailing back, ignoring my glare of venom as he goggled my mother- father- fuck, whatever the hell I should call Assan now. For all I knew, I may have two mothers now.

As if things had not already gone tits up.

I snickered at my own accidental joke, fortunate that nobody seemed to hear me.

Zev's eyes lingered, too, but he seemed to understand first whatever Assan was going for. He stepped forward, frowning, and reached into his pocket to pull out a golden earring.

Zev nearly suffocated Assan, if the elf's squeak was anything to go by, he hugged him so tightly. His shoulders shaking, I couldn't help the soft smile even though I was not as happy about this as he seemed to be. Assan did not seem as happy either, his expression looking troubled. I made sure to keep my eyes chin up.

"I had an inkling earlier," Assan said. "I couldn't sense Bannon even when he was beside me."

"Explanation for those not in the loop?"

"He's- he's cured," Zevran said. Any other may have let their voices shake speaking those words, but Zevran's words were as sure as the strong arms wrapped tightly around Assan. Assan hugged him back.

"The scars are gone. The Taint is gone. I'm… not a Warden anymore."

He should feel happy. Relieved. Overjoyed.

But fear was the only expression on my father's face.

"What do I do now? Who am I if not a Warden?" Assan asked, staring at Zevran. The expression on his face dimmed his vhenan's smile, but he grabbed Assan's hands and pressed his forehead against his own.

"You are Assan. You are mi amor," Zevran said. "You are still you, Warden or not. Just… you'll be around a little longer, no?"

"As long as you'll be there, too, I suppose it wouldn't kill me," Assan said. Assan looked down at himself before he turned to Owen, and once the sound of him doing his buttons back up ceased, I figured it was safe to turn my gaze back to them all. "When do you think I'll be able to get back to my body's original form?"

"Who knows," Owen said. "It might not even be possible for all we know. Jack and Ianto are looking through the archives and the extraterrestrial tech stored away, but they might not find anything. I'd get used to it, if I were you."

Assan shoved himself off of the tabletop, Zevran steadying him when he stumbled.

"Fight me."

"Excuse me?"

"Fight me."

Zev looked him dead in the eyes.

"Alright then," he said. "If it is what you need, mi amor, then I will."

"Good," he said. "And Barkspawn. Where is he?"

"We don't know-"

As if his words about Barkspawn had summoned him, Cole broke from behind me (leaving me to quickly pretend that I hadn't been startled; that boy was too silent for his own good sometimes) and walked up behind the trio.

"Mind clearer. Song gone, silent, so silent within my head. Not as scared, now, but I love him. Important. Family. Where is he?" The boy blinked up at Assan as he turned to him. "He is alright. The demon wanted to hurt them, so I hid them. I'll go get him."

Cole did his disappearing trick, leaving them gaping. I couldn't help my smirk at the looks on their faces.

I was eager to meet the famous hound; mother often talked about how close Assan and Barkspawn had been and still were. The only time she had ever seen them seperate had been when Assan was taken off to a cell in Denerim (I always had loved the story of father escaping on his own, outsmarting the guards and escaping with only a single body left behind).

Mother said Assan had gotten paranoid, after the shrieks attacked the camp. That the Taint within him reached his mind just enough to change him from the elf he had been.

Just a little. But, mother had always said, that he had never been the same. He still was Assan, just… different somehow.

It was only a matter of minutes before the sound of scrabbling, pounding feet started echoing within the halls. There was a split moment where I saw a flash of brown fur, and then it was upon Assan, the two of them hitting the floor.

I got a glimpse of that little nub tail wagging like crazy before Zev pulled Barkspawn back enough for Assan to sit up. It was futile, really, as the mabari knocked him right back down when Zev let go of his scruff.

Barkspawn was whining, shoving his snout into Assan's stomach and his ribs and his neck, nubbed tail wagging quickly as he gave the elf a thorough kissing on his face, slobbering over him with his big mabari tongue.

"Hey, buddy," Assan said, laughing and pulling him close. "It's me. I'm here. I'm okay."

Zevran kneeled down next to them and Barkspawn knocked him over, too.

Owen broke away from the two elves while they were occupied. Instead of passing my in the doorway and leaving down the hall, he shoulder-checked me as he passed. I scowled but let it go.

My father had turned his curious gaze upon me, and it made me feel like a child under the scrutiny.

I jerked my head towards the hall and stepped out, swallowing down the lump in my throat. For the first time in my life, my armor left me feeling out of place. My staff was a familiar, heavy weight upon my back.

Assan came walking out of the room a moment later, alone but for the mabari at his side, and followed me without a word farther down the hall. I stopped a reasonable distance away from the medbay and turned to face my father.

He was shorter than I remembered, though his magical gender change probably hadn't helped manners. His vallaslin, too, was a bit faded down from the sun like any other adult elf in the clans.

Assan looked me over; I straightened under his gaze, fixing my posture and watching him warily.

"Vallaslin," he said. "Lavellan."

"Yes."

He circled me like a wolf. "Jack let you all out?"

"Yes. After listening to my side, we sorted out our little… misunderstanding…"

He stopped in front of me, tilting his head. He was frowning, and I could practically hear the gears turning in his mind.

When he spoke, his voice was almost cautious. Hesitant.

"Revas?"

I stared right back at him, levelling him with the weight of my own gaze. "Yes."

"You were a little boy," Assan said.

My breath caught. I hoped I managed to hide it well enough.

"Yes."

Silence reigned between us for a long moment before I broke to it.

"It's a… well, it is-" I waved a hand, frowning as I searched for a well enough explanation- "well, it's a sort of timey wimey, wibbly wobbly thing."

I took a deep breath before offering the explanation he was obbiously waiting for.

"There was a Tevinter magister. Had a son who had caught the Taint from roaming darkspawn. He'd been working on time magic, and when we confronted him, Dorian and I were sent into the future-" I rubbed the back of my neck and averted my eyes- "problem is, mother and I were traveling through at the time, and were nearby. It caused a bit of an… interference, both my present and future versions. When the time magic flared as it sent my future adult self into the future, my child self was thrown into the past. The Lavellan clan found me and took me in. I spent the rest of what growing up I still had to do there, and eventually found myself at the Conclave as a spy for the clan. The rest is, as they say, history."

Assan stared at me for a long moment before he let out a heavy sigh.

"I shouldn't even be surprised," he said. "My life has always turned weird around every bend. Why would yours be any different? Two odd lives may as well fail to cancel out the odds of an odd life for their child. Well, what happened to your hair? It was black, last I saw you."

"The Black Emporium," I said. "There's a mirror there that can change your appearance. My face is my own, but I was sick of being mistaken for someone I am not."

"Your own person," Assan said. "I respect that."

"Yes, well-" I couldn't hold it in anymore, the burning anxiety eating away at me, and I spread my arms as if to display myself to my father- "does the consequence of your survival match up to your expectations?"

Assan seemed confused. "What?"

I would have sneered, had I had it in me. Instead, I just stared back with an emotionless expression.

"You never asked for me," I said. "You and mother were friends, not lovers. I am simply a consequence of the ritual which allowed you to survive killing the archdemon. So? Am I enough, father?"

Assan's face softened. He stepped forward and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Revas," my father said. "You wish to know what I see?"

I didn't answer.

For years I have dreamed of this reunion. Remembered the foggy memory of the few times I had met him alongside mother so long ago, when I was but a child, and all the times throughout my life when I had magined the foggy image of him from the stories I've heard and the face I remembered sharpening into a reality that I could believe in.

Years of imagining and dreaming.

And here he was.

I'd expected him to be taller.

Here I was. And all those eloquent speeches I'd thought up for so long were gone. Did I sound stupid? Maker, I sounded stupid, didn't I? What will he think of a son so awkward, a son who doesn't even know how this should go-

"Revas."

I met my father's gaze. He was smiling, a small smile, and he stepped forward. The hands on my shoulders moved, and then he was hugging me. Almost scared, I moved my arms up and hugged him back.

It almost felt like hugging mother, and I couldn't help wonder what it would have felt like to hug him before the demon had changed his form.

"I see a son," he said. "A son that I would and do love, no matter who he has become. I never expected anything of you, Revas. Your mother and I were friends but not lovers, yes, but that doesn't make you any less of my son."

All the years of fear and anxiety focused on this, on what he would think of me, of what I would say, of what he would say, dissipated. I closed my eyes tightly shut, but my tears still fell.

* * *

-Assan-

Revas seemed to do a one-eighty after pretending he had gotten something in his eye, already talking talk of me meeting his companions.

My boy pulled me along right off to meet his own vhenan, a fancy man by the name of Dorian Pavus who wasted no time in doing his best on his first impression.

"You must be the famed Hero of Ferelden!-" the man kissed my hand and did a graceful bow- "I've heard such wonderful things about you! Your son is a marvelous person, simply marvelous, and no doubt my Amatus gets his spectacular looks from you."

"Tone down the asskissery, vhenan," Revas said, smiling at the Vint.

"I only kiss one ass, amatus."

"You've never kissed my ass."

"You've never asked," Dorian said, waving his hand in dismissal. "And this must be Barkspawn?"

He cast a glance at Barkspawn, looking more curious than anything.

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, he has the look of a very noble hound," Dorian said, bowing at the waist in the smooth manner of any man of nobility or standing. "But here I am, painting praise, and I have yet to so much as introduce myself! I am Dorian Pavus, and it is an honor to meet you, Warden-Commander."

"Charmed," I said, nodding in return to his half-bow. "My son tells me that you're from Tevinter?"

"Yes," Dorian said. "I am."

"He saved me, father," Revas said. "You should have seen him! I've never seen a mage cast a spell so gracefully."

"If you make my son happy, then that's good enough for me," I said. "Welcome to the family, Dorian."

The human looked stunned and was speechless for a moment before settling for a soft smile. "I… thank you."

"No need to thank me," I assured him. "Come now, Zevran will be pleased to meet you, I'm sure."

"He's almost as flaunty as you, Dorian," Revas teased his vhenan.

"Almost as? Unacceptable, amatus, I am the flauntiest."

Revas stiffled a laugh, but it only served to make him let out a harsh snort.

Zevran and Dorian took to each other well, thankfully. Revas and I left the two to chat when they had begun conversing about dirty poetry, of which neither I nor my son found entertaining.

"I've heard idle comments in passing of this Corypheus," I said, when it was just him and I again. "Something is wrong?"

The good mood seemed to almost instantly dissipate from his face. He said nothing, merely motioned for me to follow him.

The main room was mostly empty, with Tosh at her computer already and no one else in sight. I didn't see anyone else, and Revas didn't seem to mind much when Tosh spared us a quick glance.

He sat me down before he started. Somethings were obviously easier for him to explain without choking up, but he refused to explain the future he and Dorian had seen. I let it go.

After he had finished speaking, silence reined long between us.

"Okay," I said.

"Okay?"

"Okay," I said, my voice soft. "Consider me on the Inquisition's side, if it was not already obvious. I'm sure you have Hawke on your side as well?"

"Yes, we talked in the Fade, and she's already thrown her cards in with us."

"Good. And these Rifts, you can open them at any time, right? When will we be heading back?"

"It would probably be best to wait until Jack has succeeded in finding what he needs to turn you into your original self," Revas said. "Something tells me that the Wardens would probably be more receptive of our intrusion if they could recognize their Warden-Commander."

"You guys are leaving?"

Revas and I both looked up, heads turning to face Tosh. She blushed and turned her eyes back to her computer, sparing us a few glances.

"Not going stop you-" she was quick to assure us- "it will just be a bit quiet without all of you running around, is all."

"We all knew this was not to be a permanent arrangement," I said. "Have you heard anything from Jack?"

"He's down in storage with Ianto, if you'd like to go help find a solution for your problem," Tosh offered.

"Thanks, Tosh."

Jack and Ianto had been joined by Gwen, by the time Revas and I made it down there.

Jack had just flung aside what appeared to be a silver flask, a disgruntled frown on his face, when he noticed my son and I walk in. Other than a quick glare towards Revas, he seemed to have gotten over the whole accidentally being killed thing.

"I still think the dreddletic would help," Ianto was grumbling, silencing when he noticed us. "Assan. Inquisitor."

I gave a wave while Revas gave a slight nod.

"Tosh said you're trying to find a solution to my father's little… problem," Revas said, already straightening his posture and adjusting his expression in order to put off a confident look. "We've come down to assist."

"I doubt you'll be much help," Ianto said, having the decency to at least seem apologetic. "I'm sure Jack doesn't even have a clue of what we're looking for."

"Neither do you," Jack said, looking up from the enclosed shelving to shoot Ianto a pout.

"I have a somewhat clue of what I might wish to look out for."

"And I have absolutely no idea and nobody saying anything," Gwen said.

"I already told you that I'd doubt you'd be much help either," Ianto said. "You chose to ignore it."

"As will we," Revas said.

Jack shot my son a heavy glare.

"You don't need to touch EVERYTHING."

"Nonsense," Revas said. He was putting things down almost as quickly as he was picking them up. "Gwen, would you kindly go retrieve Solas for me? He's the bald eggy looking one, impossible to miss."

"Better than sitting here taking the piss," Gwen said, putting down the grey ball she had picked up. "I don't know what more than half of these things do."

"As I said-" Ianto grumbled under his breath- "already said you wouldn't."

"Ianto just doesn't like us messing up his careful ordering system for these."

"Sod off, Jack."

I had just leaned over to examine some of the items when a slew of furious elvhen curses came from behind me. I turned to find Revas, holding what appeared to be two pieces of a broken staff and- was that a skull on the end of that piece?

Still cursing, he shoved both pieces together and held them with one hand while he pulled a knife free from under his forearm with his free one. A knife hidden within your armor? Why hadn't I thought of that?

Jack and Ianto had paid no attention to the swearing, but the smell of burning metal grabbed their attention.

By the time they'd even thought to whip around, Revas had melted the knife enough to bend it around the metal, melt the metal further, and then solidify it once more as his hands went blue with the frost spell he cast. He looked over his work, a satisfied expression set on his face as the staff held together.

"If you're just going to touch stuff that you shouldn't-"

"I went through too much trouble to get this thing to let it rot here, worlds away and forgotten. People have died attempting to retrieve it. I did not."

"Thought you told Bannon's Zevran that you took it off a dead man," Jack said.

Revas didn't even spare the man a glance as he examined his staff, frost glazing over the skull intertwined with the wood at the top as he channeled some mana into it to test his patch job.

"Tempest," Revas said. "Living beings, demons and Venatori, in the ruin we found it in had been frozen by the magical failsafe. When I took the staff, they were released back into the flow of time, and we had to fight our way out. I nearly lost my life in there, and so, no. I will not let MY staff rot in YOUR collection of trophies."

"Inquisitor."

Revas turned, nodding towards the bald elf standing in the doorway beside Gwen.

"Solas-" my son smiled as the elf entered the room- "this is Solas, father. Solas, this is my father, Assan Mahariel. Bit of a possession gone wrong has left him… in a different state than usual."

"I've seen him before, lighting the fire alongside the future king, Alistair," Solas said, nodding to me in greeting. "From walking the Fade, of course. It is nice to finally meet you in the waking world."

"Walking the Fade?"

"Solas can walk through memories lingering in old ruins and the such," Revas said, smiling fondly towards the elf. "The more he travels in the waking world, the more of the Fade he can explore."

"I can tell you all about it, if you would like," Solas said. "At a more reasonable time, of course. I doubt that I have been called down here only to talk?"

"We're looking for something that can help Assan get back to being, well, Assan," Ianto said. "Back to being male, put simply."

"I see," Solas said. The elf looked around at the shelving, the slightest of frowns on his face. "Is there anything in particular that I should be looking for?"

"Seeing as none of you have any idea what any of these do, none of you are likely to be much help," Jack said. After recieving a glare from Ianto, Jack spoke again. "Well, I guess it won't hurt too much. Ianto can tell you what things do, I suppose."

"Unless either of your magic would be helpful," Ianto said, shooting another glare Jack's way.

"Cole would be useful… but on the other hand may become overwhelmed by all these objects. I would not be surprised to learn that each has a bit of history to it," Solas said. He waved his hand over a blue coil then, seeming to sense it being safe, picked it up. It was only in his hand for a few moments before he put it down again. "Perhaps the answer is not in a simple act of changing the Warden from female to male. Have you yet to test combining our world's magic with your world's technology?"

"Haven't considered it, really," Ianto said. "What do you have in mind?"

"It would depend on the abilities of the objects located here and how my own would possibly affect them."

I turned from their chatter, attention catching on what appeared to be an hourglass. It was shut within a glass box, with what looked like small golden chains wrapped around it. It was simple enough to get the box open, undoing the latches and reaching in.

The glass was smooth, the chains cold. Barkspawn let out a soft borf as I pulled it out of the case.

It didn't seem like some sort of amazing alien technology. It seemed nothing more than a fancier version than, say, any of the ones I once saw a vendor selling in Denerim.

I turned it over, the golden sand within slipping down in a graceful stream-

The spider was much larger than any spider had the right to be. Not even the archdemon had been this big.

And there I was, standing before the thing with nothing but two daggers in my hands. Like a mouse against a high dragon with nothing but two little needles.

In the end, I was just an elf. It seemed a horrifying reality before this besst.

"Let Zevran keep Barkspawn."

"No," Hawke said, "I'm not going to be the one to tell Zevran you're not coming back, you little asshole. We're getting out of here. All three of us are getting out of here."

"In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death-"

"Assan, please-"

"-sacrifice."

"Father, wait, there has to be a way. I don't- I'l stay, I'll figure something out-"

"I'm a Warden. I'm already on borrowed time. You have your whole life ahead of you. Both of you do."

Revas raised his head. I looked at him, and my little boy looked back. Seeing my expression, the elf suddenly seemed too small for the weight of his responsibilities as Inquisitor, Hawke's grip and his staff turned walking stick the only thing visibly keeping him on his feet. "Papa…"

"Get him out of here," I said. "Live, Hawke. For me. For Fenris."

Hawke's face set to stone at the mention of the broody Tevinter's name. She breathed in. Breathed out. And then she turned, limping up the path, anf Revas' still leaned on her. The Inquisitor turned, half concussed but still searching for me. Hawke pulled him along, not looking back. And I knew, from experience, that it was the stance of someone who has already been forced to make the choice to leave someone behind before and knows that this time, now, will not be the last.

It was the same for Tamlen. Twice. And it was the same for several clanmates prior, and all the Wardens I have seen lost.

I turned to the spider before me, venom dripping from fangs that would make a qunari seem tiny.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The hilts of my daggers were warm, my body aching. I savored it. Savored the pain from my wounds grom battling this far. Savored the feeling of the Fade all around me. The unnatural breeze running through my hair in several seperate directions. Savored the sound and feeling of the pounding of my heart.

Savored the feeling of being alive.

"Ma ghilana mir din'an," I said, opening my eyes and readying myself for death. "Falon'Din enasal enaste."

I let out a shrill whistle before throwing one of my daggers. It hit, the monstrous creature hissing, more out of irritation than pain as it turned its focus onto me.

"Come on!" I screamed at it. "I'm not afraid of you! Come and get me, you giant ratass!"

I saw it. Saw what happened then. Then saw what came before. I saw what happens to someone who dies in the Fade.

And as past, present, and future merged before me, I realized that that fortune teller, so many years ago, had been right.

I will never be able to rest. Not even in death.

I see them. I see them all. See them in the way that I will not when I am them.

Assan Dracason is born in the woods of a world called Tamriel with a dragon's soul burning where his mortal soul should be. He grows up in a violent world. He shouts and fights and flies and he's free and the world is his, if only he would reach out and take it!

(When he slept, he could see him sometimes. A body warm against his own, lips pressed against his, calloused hands roaming over his body. Lips wandering, kissing, loving.

The shadows at the edge of his mind whisper 'mi amor' in a silky voice that he always woke up reaching for but could never hold onto.

He dreams of many, many eyes, sometimes. Assan Dracason never does quite got over his hatred of Frostbite Spiders. He takes great joy in running them through with a well placed dagger, body aching as if he could feel them running him through instead no matter how little if any wounds they actually deliver to him.)

But the dragonborn entered the world broken. Something in him strives to make this world brighter, but no matter how much he fixes Tamriel, there is always another villain, always another fight, and not even slaying Alduin can fix him.

The stories always sing the hero's praises. The Companions sing of their Harbinger. The Thieves Guild sing of the Nightingale who brought them back to power. The Dark Brotherhood sing of the Listener who made them feared again. The Dawnguard sing of the hunter who saved the sun. The bards sing of the Dragonborn who slayed Alduin and saved all of Tamriel, and all of Skyrim sings of the man who played a large part in ending the civil war.

But Assan Dracason did not die in battle.

After a bloody and violent life, he did not die to a blade or a dragon or anything like any other man may have in the violent lands of Skyrim.

Instead, the dragonborn wastes away, once his work on this world is done. He was born with a heart already broken, forever chasing after a smiling elf in his dreams that he will never catch up to, and he leaves Tamriel behind with a heart sill in pieces.

For the barest moment, as he draws in one last breath, he will remember.

Assan Shepherd is born on a world called Earth that never seems right. He fights for his place there, and when he finally can he leaves to join the stars, searching for a place that would feel right.

He doesn't find that.

He finds unwanted fame in surviving and turning the tide in a battle thought lost. He finds universe wide fame in saving the entire universe from the beings keen on wiping them all out.

When he dies, the man that haunts his dreams seems so close, and there's a set of amber eyes staring into his and he feels such an immense feeling of longing that he feels he might die twice. (There's a dog, sometimes, before and after his first death, in his dreams. Shepard's always wanted a dog. A big, slobbery brown one. After the Reapers are defeated, he decides, he'll get one. Keep him aboard the Normandy and name him Barkspawn. It seems right. It seems wrong. He never gets the chance, anyways) But then Cerberus has brought him back to life and he is thrown back into a war he had thought he had won. He thinks that he's forgotten something. He mentions it to a crewmate once, but they only joke that perhaps he's just forgotten what comes after death. It doesn't feel right, not quite, but he doesn't question it. He lets the feeling of loss slide back into the back of his mind.

Shepherd never stops searching the stars for something he never finds. Garrus doesn't love him back, not quite the same as Shepherd thinks he might feel a fancy for him, but that's alright because something within him feels wrong at loving the alien anyways, as if there's someone else who holds his heart hostage. He never finds out who.

In his dreams, he does not fight Reapers. Does not fight for the sake of all sentient life across the entire galaxy.

In his dreams, he is fighting for the sake of a single planet, a single land, a single sentient life.

He is fighting a darkness that he cannot recall.

(He remembers eyes, sometimes. So many, many eyes.

Assan Shepherd has never liked spiders, or anything else buggish and large.

He lets the last Rachne Queen live anyways, without hesitation, and she returns the favor years down the line.)

Sometimes he even dreams of dragons who breathe fire through words, and a life left empty in the same way his own feels.

Assan Shepherd does not die of a broken heart, but instead as a result of a war he never asked for.

And for a split second, as that beam shoots out and changes all of space forever at the cost of sacrificing the relays and the geth and even Edi, all to end the species that have tormented and destroyed life as long as life has existed in this universe, he remembers.

Assan Neeson is born in Vault 101.

(The walls are grey. Too grey. His dreams are filled with green. The sky is blue, so very blue, in his dreams.

When he wakes up, grasping for someone who isn't there, he always feels a tremendous feeling of loss but never understands why.)

When his father leaves, Assan follows. He isn't given much choice, really. Death or escape. He chooses the latter.

The Wasteland is brown. Brown dirt, brown water, brown sky, brown dead trees, brown dried blood spilled upon the ground. And that damn grey is ever present in the buildings that may as be calles ruins.

He hates it.

(Except sometimes, at night, when he'll look up, and something in him longs for those stars that shine so brightly so far above his head. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine them all around him.)

Every time he wakes up, the color green flickering behind his eyes, the brown and radiated Wasteland is like a smack to the face. Every single damn time.

So many people here are cruel, and twisted, and those before them destroyed this world. Turned the green and the blue and the colorful to dusty browns and greys and black. Turned the people and creatures to gouls and monsters and any other of the mutated creatures thirsting for the blood of people.

(But when Assan holds baby Marie, and sees a baby for the first time in this harsh world, he thinks that maybe this world isn't as doomed as he first thought. She looks so innocent. So pure. And with her, Ishmael is the best chance at making a cure for the people of the Pitt. He can't bring himself to hand her to the slaves to be slaughtered. He helps Ishmael quell the rebellion, even when it kills him inside to do so.

The Pitt slaves are the only ones he cannot save. He sneaks them food and takes on the deadliest jobs despite his new, higher position. Even so, they glare at him. They hate him. He hates himself even more.

He betrayed them, all for a single life.

He hates himself more than they could ever hate him.

But when, years later, little baby Marie gives Uncle Assan that big, bright smile, it seems worth it. She adores him, the young man barely more than a child himself who brings her countless teddy bears and toy trains and books that managed to escape the bombing so many years before either of them.

He'll make this a world worth living in, even if it kills him (it will. It does). For the baby that looked him in the eyes and whose smile exploded his black and white stance on the Wasteland into a dazzling display of greys. Greys that, for the first time in his young life, that he could see and not despise.)

The Wastelands gets a hero, and fresh water, and much less slavers than they had before.

(Assan's dreams of that mysterious man are interspersed with those of a better future for all in the Pitt and the Wasteland. He dreams of trees, slowly spreading from the Garden even with poor Harold gone but finally free. He dreams of the world recovering from the nuclear war that had destroyed it so long ago.)

He dies before he can see that future. The Wasteland is a dangerous place, but that broken heart within his chest finally gives up as he stands before fresh water in a world where it had all been irradiated. He's facing down a feral dog, driven mad with radiation like so many others, and he realizes that he doesn't have it in him to pull the trigger.

Not anymore.

The Wasteland is dangerous, but nothing that's ever existed on this Earth is what truly killed James' boy.

As his blood leaks out and paints that damn brown a beautiful, radiant red, he remembers.

I never stop loving Zevran. Even when he is kept from my mind, my heart shall never forget him. A love to span across all worlds and dimensions and lives. Forever. Eternal.

I loved him then. I love him now. I will love him always.

Lifetimes before, when the only Assan had ever been Mahariel, a prophet tells the Warden that he will never find peace. Not even in death.

This beautiful, amazing assassin. This wonderful man who I would do anything for.

And I knew I would not try to change a thing. If Revas didn't get out of the Fade when the day comes, there wouldn't be a world for Zevran to live in.

I would do anything for this man.

One day soon I will die for him. And then I will spend countless lives aching for the warmth of his body beside me. Countless. Endless.

Or maybe I just couldn't see far enough to know if there would be peace.

He was my best friend. He was my vhenan.

I would spend a millennia of restlessness if only to ensure his safety. To ensure that he, at least, would be at peace. Today, tomorrow, and forever.

The hourglass almost shatters against the floor, but I catch it before it can hit the ground. My heart is thudding against my ribcage, and it takes a moment before the ringing in my ears quiets enough for me to notice that the sand has all dropped into the bottom half of the hourglass.

I put it back in its case, closing it and redoing the latches without even the slightest of sounds.

And then I stood there, staring at it.

"Assan."

The sound of my name made me jump, but it was only Jack. As if anything to do with Jack could be likened to 'only' Jack.

He looked to the hourglass and then back to me.

"It's beautiful," I said. "What does it do?"

"Nothing helpful."

"I'm only curious."

Jack frowned, stepping closer. The man who could not die had an imposing presence, one that unnerved me, but I pretended to be unbothered.

"It's an old Timelord object," he said. "They were an alien species. Their letters were in a clock sort of design, if you would believe it."

"It's in a case. Down here. It has to to do more than sit and tell the hour."

Jack nodded. "You're right. A timelord's name consists of their life. Past, present, future. A friend once told me that there was a special position, a timelord designated with using this to see a child's fate. The Namer. That sort of thing, really."

"Surely that would be too long to refer to someone by," I said. My traitorous heart was trying to quicken again. Damn thing. I bit down on the dread. "You cannot put an entire life into a handful of words."

"Most went by titles, and names were translated and shifted by their translators anyways," Jack said. "Why bother with learning other languages when you can just translate them to yours and yours to them? The lives get lost in translation, I guess, or maybe they just usually go by titles or shorten their names to something other species would understand. Or maybe even for their own. I never really asked."

"Have you ever touched it?"

"Not with my bare hands," Jack said. "Those who know their own fate will try to change it. It only causes misery, especially when it can't be changed. Why suffer through knowing what will happen?"

I turned my gaze from the captain. The hourglass looked harmless behind its glass case. A harmless object for a harmless, innocent purpose.

Maybe the Timelords had been happy with their system. But I doubted many others would with the same.

To each their own.

"I don't thing I would change anything, if I knew my fate," I said.

"Everyone wants to control their own fates," Jack said. "That's the point of free will."

He looked at me.

"You touched it. I know you did. You're a good liar, but you've been over here staring at it for too long to just be curiosity."

I smiled. I should feel guilt, maybe, or even shame at being caught. Strangely, I only felt relieved.

"I did," I said. "But what my future holds is a necessity that can only be successfully achieved a single way. I am a Warden, Jack. We are no stranger to destiny. Each Warden, from the moment they pass the Joining, knows that they are destined to die. By sickness, battle, or the Calling for which they will sacrifice themselves fighting to the death in the Deep Roads, they will die. I have no desire to change my fate."

Jack stared at me for a moment before giving me a nod.

"I've met men like you before," he said. "I reckon that I will live to meet many more."

I cast the human a knowing smile as I headed farther down the shelves, leaving him behind to stare in at the hourglass.

Jack Harkness would live to meet many more. People like me. People like Hawke. Like Bannon. Like Zevran. Maybe even a few like Fenris. He'd meet thieves and heroes and villains and holy men and vad men and scared men and arrogant men and every sort of type of person that I could ever imagine. Probably even more.

The man couldn't die, after all, and had already been around long before now, according to those files and records and reports, hidden away in the archives.

I felt a little sad for the man.

I would forget, time after time, life after life, dimension after dimension. But Jack Harkness would always remember, every second of every moment.

I would die for Zevran. Jack Harkness would live because he had no other choice.

I, because I would die where I shouldn't have been able to. Jack, because of some reason only he seemed to know.


End file.
